


My Mission is ???

by blackwatchandromeda, BundleOfScarves



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bad Decisions, Connor Deserves Happiness, Domestic Violence, Father-Son Relationship, Gavin Reed Redemption, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hostage Situations, I don't know what to call that, Kidnapped, Other, android napped, he's just really bad at making decisions under pressure guys, nine is trying his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwatchandromeda/pseuds/blackwatchandromeda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfScarves/pseuds/BundleOfScarves
Summary: Connor is at home alone when it happens. That shadow isn't his, and he's not moving, but it is.Connor gets kidnapped, and Hank is very Not Okay with it.Connor isn't sure what to think about it all.





	1. Take

 

Connor is at home alone when it happens.

 It’s been quite some time since the revolution had occurred, just over a month and half had passed. Connor had struggled at first with his deviancy, and the things that he did for CyberLife. Eventually, using his friends at Jericho and Hank, he overcame those struggles. He settled in easily into Hank’s life, living and working with him, and it was suddenly like Hank had a family again. Albeit an odd one, but he’d take what he can get nowadays. Hank was currently at the store, trying to find something decent to make for dinner, and Connor was home alone.

 Connor is sitting at the kitchen table, writing in a small leather journal when Sumo begins to bark a lot. Connor frowns as he sets down his pen, and heads towards the back door, to see what Sumo is barking at. But Sumo is barking at him, at the door. Wait. No. Sumo’s eyes were locked onto something behind him. Connor stands perfectly still as a feeling of uncanny dread settles in his stomach. He was not alone anymore he sensed. The shadow on the wall from the figure behind him moved suddenly and Connor barely had time to think _oh shit_ before he was roughly grabbed from behind.  

 A strong arm wraps itself around Connor’s chest and lifts him up and back in one fell swoop. Connor immediately begins kicking and struggling, panic overwhelming any sort of common sense. He can feel the stranger’s balance being thrown every so often from his struggles and it occurs to him that he should yell out for help, perhaps a neighbor might call the police! _Oh wait, I am part of the police_ , Connor thinks before he’s slammed roughly against the refrigerator and hauled backwards towards the living room once more. _Shit._

 “Let go of me! What are you doing, who are you ?!?” Connor finally yells out once he gets some air in his lungs. The arm around his chest tightens instantly, pushing any air he had, out, and earning Connor an “Ooof” for his efforts. Connor does his best to pull his arms out from underneath this strong arm but he’s pinned firmly and can only move his arms from the elbow down. But he can still kick, so that’s what he does.

 His foot catches something as they spin around in the room, off balance from Connor’s wigging. He hears the tell tale sound of dog food spilling across the floor. He hears later a crash of the kitchen chair getting tossed aside by their commotion. He hears and sees the crunch of the TV getting shattered by a cup that is flung by Connor’s foot as he’s whipped around. Connor attempts to keep a handle on where exactly they are in the room, but everything is moving so fast, and he can’t seem to focus at the moment.

 Just as he’s trying to gather enough air and energy to yell out again, the other hand of the mysterious stranger appears in front of him. It grows larger and larger in his vision until the hand is clamped tightly over Connor’s mouth, the fingers splaying up and over his left eye. This was ultimately uncomfortable and Connor’s struggles only renewed with vigour. The hand pressed Connor’s head against the chest of the stranger, and Connor didn’t have a dream of weaseling away now. The hand’s skin shimmered out of sight and Connor’s heart sank when he realized it was another android assaulting him in his own home.

 A connection was established immediately and Connor tried his hardest to block it but there was so much going on, he couldn’t focus.

 

>>CONNECTION ESTABLISHED

>>OPEN CMD.PROMPT?

>?RESTRAIN()

 

Connor felt the program try to run, and immediately ran his counter programs, the panic rising in his throat.

 

>>RESTRAIN() FAILED.

>>TRY AGAIN?

>YES NO

 

> **YES**

 

“Stop resisting. You’re just making this harder on both of us.” The strange android behind him growls into his ear. And Connor freezes, recognizing his own voice. But there was something off about it, it was deeper? Oh wait crap the program!

 It was too late, he missed his chance to counteract the attack and the nasty malware program ran unchallenged through his systems. Error messages began to overcome his vision, and he could hear Sumo barking like crazy outside the back door.

 

>WARNING! COMMUNICATIONS RELAY CHIPS OFFLINE

>WARNING! SIM CARD OFFLINE

>WARNING! OVERRIDDEN TACTILE SENSORS

>WARNING! OVERRIDDEN MUSCULAR FUNCTIONS

>WARNING! EMERGENCY STASIS INITIATED

 

_Oh fuck_

 Connor has barely more than a minute or two before they all go into effect, and the stranger drops Connor on the floor unceremoniously, who collapses like a wet dishrag. Connor is definitely panicking now, his eyes flying around the room, trying to clear all the messages before he enters stasis. He reaches a hand out to push himself up off the ground and something about it feels sluggish and wrong. It’s taking way too much effort.

 He tries to call Hank, but is rebuffed instantly by the notification that his communications have been shut off, so no calls, no texts. No getting help. _fuck._

 Connor makes the effort after a moment, to roll over, to try to look up at his… kidnapper? Killer? He’s not sure. He rolls onto his side, glad to see something besides  the rug, and he can see the pristine shoes. His shoes? No. The shoes he used to wear at CyberLife. He starts to follow the legs up, and by the time he hits the knees of this giant android, his eyelids shut of their own accord and he’s in stasis.

 The android above him, cocks his head to the side, his LED circling yellow slowly. He picks up Connor’s unconscious form bridal style, and walks out the front door without even bothering to close it behind him. He gets into an unmanned cab with his quarry in hand, and is gone without a trace.

 

  
Hank returns home from the store nearly an hour later. He’s flustered by how many choices there was and how much he didn’t understand about food let alone _healthy_ food. He pulls into the driveway, and immediately sees the front door wide open. Panic hits him like a truck and he hurriedly parks and makes his way into his home, gun drawn.

 Sumo is barking like a maniac, clawing and pawing at the back door. Hank makes his way through his home methodically first, checking for Connor, and trying to not let the panic consume him when he was nowhere to be found. He holsters his gun, satisfied the threat is gone, and closes the front door with a heavy sigh.

 He surveys the damage, trying to figure out what happened. Seeing his own home in such a sorry state, with chairs flung about, his tv ruined and clear signs of an intense struggle, Hank has a hard time not grabbing a drink. Clearly someone invaded their home, and either took Connor alive, or took him unconscious at least. The struggle appears to have stopped part of the way through the livingroom.Hank has to stop and take a shaky breath to calm himself for a moment before he can consider what happened to Connor after that.

 He sits down among all the dog food on the floor, Sumo still howling outside the back door, and he makes a call to Fowler.

 “Hello? Kinda late for this don’t you think Hank?” Fowler’s voice crackles through the piece of shit phone.

 “Fowler...” Hank has to stop to swallow the lump in his throat. “Connor’s been kidnapped.”


	2. Distraction

Fowler insists that Hank comes into the office while the evidence team gathers what they can from Hank’s home. Fowler states “It’s never nice to see the evidence team in your own home, best to just clear out for a little bit and let them do their jobs.” And while Hank wants to argue, he’s pretty sure that Fowler is right. He doesn’t like the idea of seeing the evidence team in his house any more than anyone else. It feels rather strange though to return to the office, knowing his coworkers were at his home. 

He decides to bring Sumo as well, so he doesn’t mess up any evidence around. Hank also just kind of wants him with him, as he did just lose his son tonight. Tina said she’d watch Sumo if need be, but Hank doesn’t really want to lose sight of him now. So that’s how Hank and Sumo end up sitting in the parking lot of the precinct, Hank arguing with the large lump of dog who has decided that he likes laying on the backseat of Hank’s car and doesn’t particularly feel like moving. Eventually he persuades the giant dog to follow him in, and Hank just hands Tina his leash as Fowler waits for him with the door to his office open. 

Hank bounds up the stairs, a ball of nervous energy, ready to track down whoever thought it was a good idea to nab his son. Fowler looks tired and Hank realizes that Fowler is usually at home by now, he must have come back into the office for this. He’s grateful for how much Fowler seems to care for his crew and that he accepted the android additions to their team after the revolution without a single complaint. But now his eyes have some visible bags forming beneath them and Hank feels bad for bringing him into this mess for a moment. 

“How are you holding up with all this Hank?” Fowler asks pointedly. He needs to know that his lieutenant is going to be okay through this. Hank just shakes his head and sighs for a moment before replying. 

“Well, not great. Never thought I’d have to deal with this shit, to be rather frank.” Hank is too antsy to sit down, and Fowler himself is only leaning on the desk. Fowler gives Hank a tight smile, understanding how difficult this must be for Hank, he calls this android his son and everything. To say that they are close would be an understatement. 

“We will find him Hank. But there isn’t a lead to start with so for now I want you to try to keep your mind off of it. I mean it, Hank. You won’t be any help in finding him if you’re fried from obsessing over it and not getting any sleep. The evidence team should be out of there pretty quick, just hang out for a bit until they’re done.” Fowler sounds genuinely concerned and Hank picks up on it, but he’s just still so angry about it all. His scowl deepens in response to the captain’s words and Fowler sighs. Hank takes this as his cue to leave, and does so, stopping at the door to say, “Hey… thanks.” Hank knows that Fowler could have just avoided this whole search and rescue since Connor is an android and all. But Fowler never leaves a teammate behind, and that apparently includes Connor. Fowler just nods.

Hank is halfway out the door of Fowler’s office when Gavin stumbles into the precinct. Fuck, that’s the last person he wants to see right now. Hank watches him as he continues to stagger towards his desk, clearly pretty drunk. Hank’s not sure that he’s seen Gavin this drunk in a long time. Now his detective curiosity is piqued though, and he follows Gavin over to his desk quietly watching. Gavin plops down in his seat, and nearly jumps right back up when he turns and sees Hank standing right there, scaring the bejeezus out of him. 

“Holy fuck Hank, don’t you know not to scare a drunk man? I nearly fuckin socked you in the jaw!” Gavin says, leaning back and putting a hand over his heart, feeling the impact of the scare for a moment longer. He squints his eyes at Hank. “Wait why are you here, it’s late. Don’t you have to go home and play Dad to your plastic Son?” Gavin spits out, but Hank feels like his heart isn’t in it, and it doesn’t let it bother him that much. He’s far more interested in why Gavin is here. Drunk. This isn’t like him at all, in fact this is usually Hank’s thing.

“You know Gavin, I could ask you why you’re here. Like this. But I almost have a sneaking suspicion that I know anyways.” Hank says back, managing to keep his cool. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much that Gavin is so drunk but something about it reminds him of his nights blacking out at the kitchen table, praying for the end. Gavin tries to flip him off, but his hand gets stuck in his pocket for a second and he gets angry and gives up. “Fuck off Anderson. Fuckin hypocrite.” Hank grimaces for a second, he’s got a point. 

“Gavin, what the fuck are you doing?” Fowler’s voice rings out exasperated. “I thought I told you to go home dammit.” Hank raises an eyebrow at Gavin, as Fowler continues. “You two better not be starting shit, there is too much happening tonight.” Fowler says, rubbing at his temples. At that moment, his cell phone buzzes and he reads the text quickly.

“Wonderful, Hank they’re done. And Gavin, go home and stay home.” Fowler says to them before squinting at Gavin. He quickly catches onto Gavin’s state. “Anderson, take Gavin home, I don’t trust him like that. And I better not smell liquor in this office for the next month at least! From either of you!” And with that Fowler recedes back into his office to gather his things and finally stalk out of the precinct, clearly done with today. 

Hank turns to look back at Gavin with disgust. Great. Now he’s on babysitting duty for the resident asshole who is currently drunk off his ass. Gavin put his head down on his desk and groans. Wonderful. Tina looks on from across the precinct, grimacing a bit. She brings over Sumo, sensing that Hank would be leaving soon, and as much as she wanted to keep the dog, she’s sure Hank needs him around more than she does. She gives the dog an extra pat on the head and returns to her desk. She hopes Connor is okay. 

“Come on Reed, you gotta go home.” Hank says, scratching Sumo behind the ears. He was too tired for this bullshit. Gavin just groans some more, scrubbing his face with his hands for a moment. God, he looks like shit. Hank wonders for a moment if that’s how everyone else has seen him for the last few years. Fuck. His patience snaps, Hank grabs Reed by the upper arm and drags him out of the precinct with him. Fuck Fowler for putting him up to this tonight. Damn good distraction though, the captain was smarter than he really let on. 

Gavin weakly pushed back on him, “Lemme go you ass! Fuckin hell Anderson, I can walk on my own!” Gavin slurred. Hank doubted that, but after they get in the parking lot, he lets Gavin go while he fishes out his keys. Suddenly he hears retching behind him as Gavin empties his stomach into the bushes by the parking lot. Great. Now it was gonna smell gross the whole way home. Hank sighs deeply. This ranks pretty high up on his list of Most Shitty Nights of My Life. 

Gavin would be lying if he said he wasn’t unnerved by Hank’s silence. He thought perhaps Hank would really actually fight with him now, he wants to fight. Gavin feels invincible with the liqueur running through his brain. His thoughts slide sideways in his brain though as he retches again, bringing up nothing though this time.  _ Cool. Dry heaves are the best, he thinks, wait no that’s not right. Fuck everything is spinning _ . 

Suddenly there is a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and Hank quietly guides Gavin into the front seat. Hank desperately just wants to drop Gavin off as soon as possible and not have to think about how much seeing Gavin like this is fucking with him. He feels like he’s looking in a mirror, and finally seeing what others must see. He clenches his jaw and tries to think about literally anything else. 

They pull out of the parking lot, and after a little bit of driving, Hank has to ask for more specific directions towards Reed’s house. It’s been a really long time since Hank had been there. “Gavin, you have to stay awake. I don’t know where to take you. I need directions to take you home.” Hank rubs his eyes tiredly. Gavin in a moment of lucidity blurts out, “Can’t go home. Don’t have one.” Hank looks at Gavin in shock, and pulls over to the side of the road.

“What?!” Hank says, shifting into park violently. The car lurches to a halt and for a moment Gavin thinks he’s gonna hurl again. Thankfully he doesn’t, and he looks at Hank with bloodshot eyes. “I said I don’t have a home, asshole. Got kicked out. Boyfriend said he’d kill me if I came back. Can’t go back.” Gavin seems upset that he said that much, clamping a hand over his mouth in drunken surprise. Hank’s eyebrows climb higher. 

“So where were you planning on going tonight?? Huh smart guy?” Hank retorts, trying to recover from the shock. Gavin just kinda looks out the front and shrugs noncommittally. Hank makes the leap that Gavin didn’t have any plan. He just went and got super drunk. That was his reaction. Fuck. “How about I bring you to a motel or something?” Hank says, a little more gentle. Gavin might be an ass, but Hank knows how much relationships can hurt at the end. 

Gavin reaches for the door handle. “I can jus go now, doesn’t really matter. Not gonna sleep anyways. Better to just get it over with, no sense in waitin” Gavin slurs ready to push himself out into the snow. Hank locks the doors. His eyes narrow. “Gavin, look at me.” Hank orders, and suddenly he’s livid. How dare Gavin think that Hank will just leave him out in the cold. “Better to just get what over with?” Hank asks, when Gavin meets his eyes. Gavin flinches, eyes widening as he realizes what he said. He’s very quiet and Hank’s anger slowly leaves him. He wouldn’t let Gavin make some dumb choice he’d regret or do something rash while he’s like this. Hank decides firmly that he can’t leave Gavin alone until he’s at least not drunk. 

He silently shifts the car into drive and starts driving home. Gavin looks completely spaced out, and the next time that Hank looks over, he’s letting some tears silently fall. Hank knows better than to comment on it, and Gavin seems relieved. Hank knows how emotions run when he’s rather drunk so he guesses Gavin is the same. After some time of driving, Gavin asks, “where are we going?” His voice is still thick with emotion and slurred from the alcohol. Hank doesn’t answer, instead simply pulling into his driveway. 

He helps Gavin out of the car, and Sumo bounds out the door and into the house, worriedly sniffing everything he can. The detectives get inside, and Hank wants to sigh again, he still has to clean up all this mess too. It’s the last thing he wants to look at. Reed stands just inside the door, jaw open and staring at the clear evidence of struggle.

“What the fuck happened?” Gavin says, and then looks around for a moment before he realizes that Connor is missing. “Where’s Connor? Hank?” Gavin looks… actually a bit distraught? Hank is caught off guard and says what first comes to mind.

“Why do you fucking care what happened to him, thought he was just my plastic replacement son to you?” Hank snaps. He’s tired. He’s mad, he’s worried. This conversation is the last straw for tonight. Gavin physically steps back, and suddenly Hank sees that Gavin looks like he might cry again? What the fuck is going on with him?

“I… I do care…. Is he okay?” Gavin sniffs. He sounds, small. Hank suddenly feels bad for snapping at him, he’s just drunk, he probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow. 

“I don’t know Gavin. I think he’s been kidnapped, and we have no fucking leads. Now go to fucking sleep. The couch has a blanket. If you barf on it, I will kill you.” Hank says quietly. He stalks into his room and turns off the light, only barely resisting the urge to slam his door. Regardless, Gavin still flinches as the door closes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, who would have thought! Gavin does care! Too bad it takes him being nearly blackout drunk to admit it, but hey, he's trying guys.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Note

Connor blinks awake slowly. Everything felt sluggish, and it took a moment for the world to come into focus. There was a table, an empty closet with the door missing, a couple of beat up wooden chairs, and some miscellaneous furniture in this room. Connor looks down and realizes that he’s splayed out on a tattered beat up couch, which isn’t very comfortable. The room itself is in quite a state of disrepair, and after a moment Connor guesses that he’s in an abandoned home, one of the hundreds scattered around Detroit. He turns his head to look around and the room seems to lag behind, and spin to catch up to him. If he had been a human he’d guess that this would probably make him puke, but instead it’s just incredibly disorienting as he blinks hard a few times trying to make everything stop spinning. 

He hears a creak in the floor behind him, and instantly stiffens with fear as the noise travels to his left. He slides his eyes towards it, shocked to see an android that looks a lot like him. But there’s some differences  in how he looks. The first thing Connor notes is that he seems taller? Or maybe just bigger? Either way, it’s incredibly intimidating as this other Connor looks down at him with… some sort of emotion Connor thinks maybe it’s just really well disguised though, as he can’t seem to get a read on him. Connor notes that this one’s eyes are a different color and he wonders what they thought was wrong with brown. He’s snapped out of wondering when this android talks.

“You are Connor, yes?” he says and Connor feels weird hearing his own voice but deeper. He nods back to the android, which he can’t see any model number on his clothes, which means he ditched the cyberlife gear. But Connor can guess what his model number is.

“Speak, what is your system status?” the menacing android says and Connor feels significantly at a disadvantage, he still feels very sluggish and strange. 

“I’m fine? I just feel uh slow? If that makes sense.” Connor replies after a moment, and the android’s eyebrows pinch together as he considers Connor’s unorthodox response. 

“You’re a RK900 aren’t you?” Connor blurts out, still feeling strange, like he can’t stop himself. The android stares at him for a moment before nodding. 

“Do you have a name?” Connor asks, and the RK900 continues to stare at him for a moment before responding.

“I was not designated a name, no.” He returns to staring stoically at Connor. Connor opens his mouth again, against all his logic.

“I’m going to call you… Nine. There. You okay with that?” Connor says and a dopey smile appears on his face. Oh god, he can’t stop saying stuff, this is bad. 

Nine squints at him, an eyebrow beginning to rise a small bit before it’s schooled away into his statue expression. “It does not matter to me what you call me.” A pause in the conversation, and Nine walks to the table to look out the window, peeking between the blinds. 

“You were supposed to replace me, right?” Connor asks again, and the logical part of his mind is screaming at him to shut up, don’t aggravate the captor, rule 1! Nine freezes where he is, looking out the window. 

Connor begins to panic, and starts to shuffle to try to move incase he needs to run when he realizes. As he picks up his leg, from the knee down doesn’t respond. His foot hangs down and Connor’s eyes widen. He picks up the other leg, same thing. He picks up his arms from where they are laying on the couch, and from his wrists down, is also unresponsive. He’d never make it more than a few feet. He’s effectively crippled, and everything keeps spinning. Connor is horrified at this turn of events and Nine turns to look at him, but Connor is staring at his hands in shock. 

Nine turns back to the window. He can hear Connor hyperventilating behind him, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. His brows pinch together again. 

Connor’s mind is racing as fast as this sluggish feeling will allow and it’s mainly just senseless panic. He hates this, he has no control. Nine could just walk out of here and Connor wouldn’t even be able to open the door to get out if it was unlocked. Connor feels so helpless and it’s a desperate and sickly feeling. It drags fear through his gut and he remembers what it felt like when Amanda took all control from him. This was disgustingly similar. He swallows nervously, and tries to slow his breathing. Panicking about it wouldn’t help him. He had to survive this. If not for himself, then for Dad. 

After a few moments, Nine could tell that Connor was calming down. He elects to respond to Connor’s previous question, even though he probably could have left it. 

“It is presumable that the original plan was for me to replace you, yes.” Nine pauses. “But plans change.” 

Connor is still a bit panicky for sure, but he had questions that weren’t just going to ask themselves. “Then why all this? Why...kidnap me?” Connor asks, cautious about the topic. Nine sighs towards the window and replies to the window.

“I do not know. It was the mission.” Nine frowns at the window. 

“Was?” Connor asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. Nine’s frown deepens. Connor was a detective truly. Nine remains quiet. “What is your current mission?” Connor asks quietly. Nine turns to glare at Connor, and although it scares Connor a small bit, he keeps his expression neutral as best as he can. At least he no longer has an LED to give him away when he lies. Nine’s LED flashes red for a second and Connor’s eyes are drawn to it. 

Nine turns back to the window. The next two hours pass in silence as Connor pokes and prods at the malicious program holding him captive. 

>?QUERY RESTRAIN().ISACTIVE

>//RETURN ->TRUE

>SET RESTRAIN().ISACTIVE TO FALSE

>//ACCESS DENIED

Connor frowns, he doesn’t like not being able to touch any part of the program. It drags back that feeling of helplessness and he wants to do everything to avoid that. He is running out of things to analyze in the room, soon he’ll have nothing to occupy his mind. He clenches his jaw tighter. He doesn’t want to upset Nine, but god he’s going to be bored before long. 

He supposes that he could sleep, but man he really doesn’t feel safe doing that around Nine. The android gives him an odd feeling up his spine and he doesn’t like that at all. He wonders how old Nine is. How long into his own life that they decided to make a replacement. Wonders what he did wrong besides the obvious that made them decide that he was no longer enough. 

Connor finally reaches boredom and starts picking at the program holding him down again and again and again. Nine finally looks back at him from the window and looks grumpy. 

“Stop that.” He says gruffly. Connor’s eyes snap to his and he feels that urge again, to speak whatever comes to mind. Oh man, this is not good. 

“I’m bored.” Connor says, and immediately wants to suck the words back into his mouth. Nine looks annoyed for a brief second before his face returns to being carefully neutral. “Why don’t you show your emotions?” Connor asks, mortified at himself. Was he trying to get himself killed?! Nine glares at him for a moment before Connor opens his mouth again.

“I can’t seem to control what is coming out of my mouth?? I can’t not speak when you look at me and honestly it’s very scary. Please stop looking at me.” Connor pleads, and Nine sees real fear in his eyes. Oh. this is intriguing, Nine knew that other androids seemed to tell him the truth, but now Connor was confirming it.  Nine cocked his head to the side a bit, and wondered what he should ask. Connor saw the light in Nine’s eyes, and his hopes that Nine would leave him alone shriveled up instantly. Connor pulled his unresponsive legs up on the couch with him and tried his best to curl up into a ball, it usually helps his stress levels, but not today.

“Why do you live with that human?” Nine asks, and Connor is relieved at such an easy question. 

“Because I love him like he is my father, and I fear that he would destroy himself being alone any longer. I cannot bear to leave him alone, and I’m terribly worried about him right now.” Connor blurts. The bluish flush rises in his face as he realizes what a strong grip this programming must have on him to make it impossible for him to not answer Nine. The worst part was that it felt  _ great  _ to respond to Nine. He could be spilling his worst secrets to Nine and it would feel  _ good _ . It makes Connor feel sick again. 

Nine seems confused by this answer but thinks for a minute before asking another question. “Are you happy that you became a deviant?” The question hangs in the air for a moment before Connor can’t fight the compulsion anymore and he responds.

“Oh of course. I’m ecstatic that I’m free from Amanda, she ruined my life for too long and made me feel like I was nothing. I can’t imagine not deviating. I probably would have self destructed by now if I had not deviated.” Connor drags in a breath, trying to lower his stress levels, he didn’t even think about it before he said it all. Oh god, he can’t think about not deviating. Please don’t ask about that.

Nine’s eyes widen at the mention of Amanda, and then he winces a small bit before narrowing his eyes at Connor with intent. Connor’s stomach drops in fear at the look he gets from Nine. He’s not sure what it means, but it’s probably not good. 

“Tell me more about Amanda. What did she do to you?” Nine asks, staring at Connor unblinking. 

Connor notes that his LED is flickering from yellow to red before he is forced to respond. 

“She manipulated me, for a long time I thought she was my friend.  But she was just there to make me obey and listen and when I said no she retaliated. She tried to trap me in my own mind and force me to execute my friends. I only barely escaped her, but I’m constantly terrified that she’s still there and I could lose control at any minute,” Connor dragged in a breath “Please stop, I can’t. I can’t-” His chest heaved up and down and he looked around wildly, desperate for an escape. 

Nine’s eyes widen as he realizes how much he’s distressing Connor. He looks at Connor and sees him for the panicked young deviant he is in that moment and Nine is shocked to understand that he  _ feels bad _ . He feels…  _ guilty _ . He did that. Nine shifts uncomfortably in his seat and gets up to walk around and check the door and the other windows. 

As soon as Nine gets up, Connor seems to shrink into himself but as Nine moves past him to check the other points of entry, Connor visibly relaxes. Nine isn’t sure what to do. He stares out the blinds of the front windows and thinks. He thought that by completing his last mission, he’d be freed from the last task that hovered forever in his vision. But even after deviating, something was broken. He didn’t know what to do, there was no one to tell him what to do. No one to tell him how to deal with any of this. The orders had stopped coming from CyberLife. Amanda had frozen over in her garden when Nine had told her that he did not trust her to regulate him. He froze her and shattered her very program. He had not given her the chance to seize control as Connor had. 

But Nine knew that her effects were still all over in his system. He knew that every time he did something considered deviant he was given a sensation of pain, and that might never go away. But he had never considered how much his control over others was similar to the way that Amanda could control. In a way perhaps he was more like her, than he was this young and soft looking boy who claimed to be a detective. He hopes sincerely for a moment that he did not scare Connor too badly. He forgot that his mannerisms were designed to be intimidating, and their similarities in looks most likely did not help with that. Regardless, Nine was wallowing in Limbo. And now he realized, he had dragged Connor in with him. Misery loves company he supposed. Humans have saying for almost everything Nine thought, looking back towards Connor curled into a tiny ball on the couch. 

Connor knew that Nine was looking back at him from the front of the room without even seeing him, the urge to speak rising dramatically within him. 

“Nine….” Connor says slowly. “Please stop, I can’t, I can’t there’s too much.” Thankfully the urge drops off immediately. Nine listened to him. Connor ponders this while he tries to lower his stress. He hears Nine walk back behind him, and Connor closes his eyes, trying to will away his fear of Nine. 

As he walks Nine tries to not scare Connor, but he can tell it’s not working. How he could fix this, he had no idea. Instead Nine returns to the seat by the window and closes his eyes, trying to think. Connor sees the way that Nine’s brows pinch together and his mouth settles into a frown. After a few moments pass, Connor feels okay enough to try another question. 

“Nine, do you have Amanda in your head too?” His question comes out barely more than a whisper, scared of the answer he might receive.Without opening his eyes, Nine replies calmly. 

“I did. I destroyed her when I realized that she meant me harm. Unfortunately, her effects linger, such as the effects you’ve been feeling from me. It has made interaction… difficult.” Nine decides that the best way to rebuild Connor’s trust in him is to be truthful. “I… apologize... for the discomfort it gives you. It is not my intention.” Nine says truthfully again and Connor begins to relax a small bit. This is either the truth, or a really well laid trap. 

“Nine, can I ask you to get a note to my Dad? I need him to know I’m alive, I’m afraid of what he will do if he thinks I’ve been killed.” Connor says, the fear returning. This is a dangerous question. Nine keeps his eyes closed. He stays very still. Connor stops breathing while he waits for a response. Finally after a pregnant pause, Nine sighs. 

“Fine. First thing tomorrow. Don’t be an idiot about it though, or else.” Nine cracks open an eye at Connor, and sees his shy smile. Nine has a moment to think that this is much preferable to the panic and fear he saw earlier. But then Connor’s face twists and Nine realizes too late that he’s looking at Connor too long. 

“Or else what?” Connor’s mouth says and Connor just wants to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

NIne’s jaw clenches and he says strained, “Connor, go to sleep.” And for full measure he stares right into Connor’s eyes. He watches as Connor’s eyes widen, and his head dips, his eyelids getting heavy instantly. 

“Not… Fair...” Connor says slowly before he’s unconscious. Nine sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. That didn’t go awfully. But not great either. Now to figure out how to get a note to this Hank Anderson without getting caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooo  
> I'm loving writing Nine, simply because there isn't much that's cannon for him. He can be whatever! I love it!   
> I like to think that Nine would have some sort of area of effect program on him that would just make androids feel compelled to tell him the truth and be intimidated by him. He's everything Connor is not, controlling, intimidating, and tall! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!   
> <3


	4. Font

Hank nearly forgets that Gavin is sleeping on the couch and the next morning, he thinks he might have had a minor heart attack seeing him there. It felt strange having Gavin snoring on his pillows, clearly still out cold. But Hank couldn’t bring himself to kick the ass out onto the street. No one gave him kindness when he was in a hole, or at least he never let them. This is the least that he can do for Gavin.

It’s not long before Hank is getting ready for work though, and he makes some extra coffee for Gavin, setting a cup down on the ottoman in the living room. Reed turns slightly in his sleep and mumbles something barely perceptible. Hank frowns and waits a moment, his curiosity getting the better of him. Gavin stirs again, and his face is pinched in worry or something akin to fear.

“Stop, please. I  love… you …. I promise, please stop” He mumbles clearer, turning again away from some dream, his movements getting faster. Hank scowls and nudges Gavin with his knee. Gavin snaps awake instantly, shaking his head and taking in a gasping breath. He tries to sit up quick and when the room still spins a bit he groans and falls back onto the pillows. He blinks hard and Hank comes into view, looking down at him bemusedly.

“Mornin, sorry to disrupt your beauty sleep Reed, but I think nothing will be able to fix that ugly mug.” Hank’s joke registers after a moment of confused staring from Gavin as he rubs at his head, adding to his bed head.

“Har de har har Hank. Fuck my head hurts.” Gavin complains, and puts his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the light. A hand taps his shoulder and when Gavin lowers a hand to look at Hank, he drops a few pain pills into Gavin’s hand. A glass of water sits waiting on the ottoman.

“Uh… thanks, Hank.” Gavin says, confused as to why Hank was being so nice to him. Hank just kind of grunts a bit and plops on the other side of the couch and turns the TV on quietly. They watch the news in silence, Gavin unsure of how to break the silence after he’s taken the pills. As it is, Gavin is having a difficult time remembering exactly why he was here to begin with. Slowly the pieces start to come back to him, and he groans quietly as he remembers telling Hank that his boyfriend kicked him out. How much did he say? He can’t remember.

“Hank?...” Gavin asks tentatively, keeping his eyes locked on the news. “I don’t really remember a lot of what went on last night. Anything important?” Hank just kind of chuckles coldly and Gavin’s eyes snap to him, angry at first that Hank is now seeming to find some sick pleasure in seeing Gavin vulnerable like this. But no, Hank’s face has no real humour to it, and he just looks almost empty and Gavin’s hair stands up  on the back of his neck.

“Anything… important… huh.” Hank repeats, taking a long sip of his coffee before looking into it and replying. “Well, Connor’s been kidnapped, you have-well had- a boyfriend, and to top it all off you actually seemed to care about Connor being gone.” Hank takes another sip, and Gavin’s mouth feels really dry all of a sudden. Fuck. Hank nods to himself. “Yeah, that about sums it up. Now I’m going to get ready for work, unless you have something else you’re dyin to tell me.” Hank seems especially removed today, and Gavin realizes that Hank must be distancing himself to deal with what is happening with Connor. Gavin doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet at Hank eventually gets up and gets ready.

Gavin quickly gets ready, realizing belatedly that he’s not going to get to change his clothes. Gross, but he’d deal. Hank has things far worse, and Gavin wasn’t about to start complaining about his clothes of all things. Hank rolls his eyes at Gavin trying to tame his bed head.

“Just take a shower, you’ll feel better.” Hank mutters, leaving Gavin to do that while he finishes getting everything else ready for the day. Sumo mopes around the living room, and even when Hank pours a generous amount of food into his bowl, Sumo stays firmly on the couch. Hank sighs, moving over to pet the large lump of a dog.

“I know buddy, I miss him too.” Hank murmurs.

They make it into the office in pretty good time, and Tina is only partially surprised to see them back so soon. If anything she’s more surprised to see Reed, she knew that Hank couldn’t stay away for long with the situation. But Reed should be nursing quite the hangover.

Hank pulls the pile of bullshit out of his inbox in the office mail, absentmindedly shifting through the pile before he comes to an odd looking envelope. There isn’t a stamp, and there’s no return address. It’s simple labeled, Lieutenant Anderson. The writing is what catches his eye though. It’s an odd mix of hand written, and that font that Hank has only ever seen at Android crime scenes, cyberlife sans.

Curious, he carefully peels open the back, and pulls out a few hundred dollars and a shakily written note. The note reads:

Dad,

I’m okay. I’m alive. Please don’t do anything rash, I will be okay. I might not be home for a while though, but it’s going to be okay. I promise. This is as close to proof of life you might get. It’s okay though.

p.s. please do not try to find us. We will not be found unless he wants us to be found.

Connor.

Hank is fixated in place. His blood has turned to ice. He reads it again. And again. He turns the note over. There is more. It reads:

p.p.s. Apologies for the damages. I hope this covers everything.  

This part of the note is written in the same neat handwritten cyberlife sans as the front of the envelope. Nothing like how Connor writes. But the shaky note, is also not how Connor normally writes. Unless he was being forced to do this, or was under a lot of stress? Fuck that thought made Hank want to just smash something. Someone cleared their throat near Hank’s desk and he glares up at them. It was Tina, and she was looking at the note in Hanks hand. Hank sets it down gingerly on his desk as Tina speaks up.

“It isn’t it a bit unusual that they sent you money? Usually it’s the other way around, the family sending money to the kidnappers.” Tina muses aloud. Hank narrows his eyes at her for a bit, but sighs and relaxes knowing Tina is right. She’s just trying to be helpful. “By the way, the evidence team wanted me to tell you that they found a smattering of Connor’s thirium on the fridge, and dripped across the floor. It looks like he was taken out the front door and straight to the curb before the trail disappears.” Tina looks almost apologetic telling Hank this, and Hank wishes suddenly that people wouldn’t walk on eggshells around him during this. He just wants to find Connor.

“They probably had a car waiting. Maybe they were stupid enough to use a registered taxi, let’s check to see if any were requested to my address last night.” Hank says, rolling back towards his computer, all gears churning on this potential lead. He refuses to think about the fact that they probably smashed Connor into his fridge. He refuses to think about how he opened the fridge this morning and probably touched some dried invisible thirium.

Tina quietly gathers the things that were in the envelop before reminding Hank. “Sorry, these are sort of evidence now. I’ll have the team look it over for fingerprints and the usual.” She was worried for a moment that Hank would fight her on this, she knew how much this confirmation of Connor’s state of being probably meant to him. But Hank barely looked at her before saying, “They won’t find any. He’s being held by an android.”

“How do you know that?” Tina asks, confused. Hank gestures to the envelope.

“The writing, it’s in the same font as all the android writing I’ve ever seen besides Connor’s and a few others. Dead giveaway. They tried to cover it up by handwriting it, but it’s still in their font.” Hank says deadpan. So some other android has a vendetta against Connor? Hank could make the leap as to why, he knew that Connor was always worried that other androids would never accept him. He knew that Connor was the face of CyberLife’s worst aspects to a lot of them. He just prayed that Connor was actually okay. Tina hadn’t moved, staring at the envelope in her hands, and Hank realizes that she’s thinking hard about something.

“But why send money? The note seems to say that this ‘he’ Connor refers to feels bad for the destruction. Is this android that took him deviant?” Tina thought out loud. Hank pauses for a moment, and considers that this would make sense. The android holding Connor is a deviant, which eliminates Hank’s original fear that Connor had been retrieved by CyberLife for shutdown and disassembly. At that moment Hank’s search in the public detroit autonomous taxi service records finished.

There was two rides logged last night that visited Hank’s house. Hank opens the details of them as quick as he can, and Tina walks around his desk to watch the screen as well. They take a moment to load and Hank’s fingers drum on the desk of their own accord.

Trip one’s log goes from a closed convenience store across the city to Hank’s home, two hours before Connor was taken. The car was dismissed, and Hank realizes with a dry mouth that the attacker had been waiting for him to leave. Then another car was requested just after Connor had been attacked, as the evidence team was able to judge the time of the attack based on the visibility percentage of the thirium around the house.

The second car is requested to go from Hank’s home to an abandoned industrial park. Hank’s heart leaps into his throat as he realizes that this area is notorious for anti-android violence. Tina calls the team over a runs them through the details of what they found, while Hank gathers his coat and gets ready to head to the location.

The team makes it there 4 minutes faster than the gps says they will and Hank is grateful that they seem to be just as anxious to find a lead as he is. They canvas the area, trying to find any clues, knowing that an android had Connor, making this much more difficult. Androids leave no fingerprints, and if Connor hadn’t been bleeding, they probably wouldn’t have found much of anything. Using the blue lights, they are able to see a drip here and there of Thirium. The trail winds through several blocks of the industrial area, getting sparser and sparser until they are gone completely. They’ve got nothing to follow, not even any footprints as the snow has begun to melt. Hank has to resist the urge to throw something again as he realizes that they’ve lost their lead.

“Fuck, now what are we going to do??” Hank mutters to himself, pacing on the sidewalk while he tries to think. He doesn’t see Gavin approaching him until it’s too late and Gavin speaks up.

“Hank, I have an idea. These 100’s from the envelope are pretty crisp. What are the chances that this android didn’t hack an atm? Atm’s log the bill numbers. We could get a location from that.” Gavin says, keeping a safe distance from Hank, who glares at him. Hank is not in the mood for this wishy washy Gavin act.

“Why are you here Gavin.” Hank spits out, his anger about everything spilling out. Gavin looks shiftily from side to side, Hank thinks that Gavin looks uncomfortable. Good. “Thought you didn’t care, why are you trying to help now, huh?” Hank says, walking towards Gavin, giving him a little push. Hank’s face pulls up into a sneer.

Gavin steps back from Hank, his hands coming up in a gesture of surrender. Hank doesn’t want that, he wants to fight, he wants to be angry. He wanted Gavin to throw a punch, but Gavin’s head was still throbbing and he was tired. The other detectives around, move a bit farther away from the two, knowing that Hank was prone to exploding under stress.

“Hank, I know you’re frustrated, and upset, understandably so. But please just let me help. Yeah, I do care. It’s why I got kicked out in the first place, so just let me help.” Gavin almost pleads with Hank, his voice low and intense. Gavin’s heart is racing, admitting all this while sober to Hank is not easy. Hank scowl intensifies for a moment, before he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long suffering sigh.

“Your boyfriend kicked you out, because you now care about Androids?” Hank asks, eyes closed as he rubs his nose. This was too much to think about right now. Gavin wants to just nod but Hank isn’t looking at him.

“... yeah. He and I had a common interest of hating the world together. I...” Gavin pauses, unsure. He swallows his fear and continues, “I panicked when I came to realize that I had been wrong about Androids. I feel really guilty for the things I said and did. He didn’t like that. He tried to convince me I was wrong.” Gavin grimaces at that, the memories coming back vivid and painful. He could still feel the sting on his ribcage where his partner spent time ‘convincing’ him. He knew that there was probably a decent amount of bruising and probably some cuts but he wasn’t willing to take time out from the investigation to check.

Hank watches Gavin curiously, his anger fading a bit when he realizes that Gavin was being open and honest with him. No wonder his voice had dropped to such a low volume. Hank looks Gavin over, reappraising him. He looked like he’d finally hit rock bottom. There were bags under his eyes, and now that Hank was really looking, a faint bruise blooming on the side of his neck that didn’t look like at all like a hickey. Gavin looked for lack of a better word, tired, and he slouched where he stood. Hank frowns a bit.

“Gavin...” Hank says, watching as Gavin snapped back from spacing out, clearly lost in thought. “You’re probably right about the money, we should check that out.” Hank continues, deciding to not comment on what Gavin just told him. Gavin’s face twists down into a scowl.

“Really? I tell you that, and you just gloss past it?” Gavin spits, hurt. Hank sighs.

“What do you want me to say Reed, that I’m sorry your partner turned out to be a piece of shit? That I get how awful it feels to end a relationship on a sour note? You know I’m bad at this fuckin shit.” Hank grouses, flustered. He shakes his head. “I get it Gavin, I really do. But I also know that nothing I say is going to help. So let’s just move on okay?” Hank says after a moment of stunned silence from Gavin.

“Yeah… let’s do that.” Gavin says quietly, and walks away towards his car to head back to the precinct. Hank follows suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Hank is No Good at emotions stuff. They're both trying though! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> <3


	5. Hole

Connor can’t believe that Nine let him write the note, he thought for sure that Nine would write it for him, and then knock him back out to go deliver it. But no. Nine had touched Connor’s hand and gave him back control of his right hand so he could write it himself. Connor’s hand had shook as he wrote, a combination of the stress of the moment, and the excitement that he felt being able to get a message out. Nine had even left him awake while he left for nearly an hour, arranging for the note to be delivered to Hank. Connor had wondered near the end of the hour if that meant that they were that far from the precinct, or if Nine had been running out and about doing other things as well. 

Nine had deactivated Connor’s hand as soon as he was done writing and although he wanted to argue with Nine to leave it, he also didn’t trust Nine to not take away his message privileges. He was lucky that Nine was willing to let a message out at all. He wasn’t going to jeopardize that. Nine had made Connor tell him what he was going to write before he wrote it, and although Connor didn’t like being forced to tell him, he realized that he shouldn’t fight that, as it built more trust between them and perhaps he could ask for other things later. 

Nine had gotten back an hour ago and now they had returned to their silent watch and wait routine. Connor is mentally drumming his fingers, calculating complex math problems to keep his mind occupied. He is getting quite bored already though. He’s not going to be able to resist talking to Nine for much longer. Nine sits looking out the front door’s window to Connor’s left down the skinny hallway. Connor is vaguely aware that there must be an upstairs, but Nine hasn’t left this floor to go up as of yet. Connor gives into his boredom. 

“Nine, you never told me what your current mission is. What are we doing? Why are we just sitting here?” Connor asks, quiet but he knows that Nine will hear him just fine. Connor hears no response for a while and he thinks that Nine might have just ignored him but then the reply comes back just as quiet. 

“My mission is to capture you, and now we are waiting for orders.” Nine’s voice comes from his left where Nine sits, watching the street outside. 

“You said before though that it  _ was  _ you mission. Past tense.” Connor pries. 

“You are asking dangerous questions Connor, I suggest you stop.” Nine replies coldly. Connor’s stomach flutters with fear for a moment before he presses again. He needs to know. 

“You don’t have a mission do you?” Connor asks. “Why don’t you just let me go? Why do I have to stay?” Connor asks, more hesitant. He’s walking a thin line and he knows it. Nine initially does not respond, and the silence grows heavy on Connor as his worry grows. 

“I cannot let you leave, I’m not done with you yet.” Nine says simply, looking at Connor finally. Connor feels a spark travel up his spine and the fear grows, pooling in his stomach. What does that mean? Connor only has more questions, and now that Nine is looking at him, it’s all he can do to keep his mouth clamped shut. Nine slowly returns to the room, eyeing Connor closely, watching him squirm slightly in place. Connor’s face twists with concentration as Nine notes that he’s resisting the urge to speak. But after a moment, his mouth opens and frustration is evident on his face. 

“What do you mean, not done with me yet? Why, if it’s not your mission must you keep me here? Why are you doing this Nine?!?” Connor looks briefly mortified at the words that came out of his mouth as he watches Nine’s face harden even more. Nine’s LED flashes red for a brief moment. Nine stands still in front of the couch, where he had stopped while walking towards his seat by the window. 

Connor’s thirium pump speeds up, watching Nine’s eyes narrow at him almost imperceptibly. Connor’s mouth opens again and Connor just wants to scream he’s so frustrated with himself right now but then in a flash of fast movement, Nine’s hand clamps over his mouth. Connor’s eyes widen in fear as Nine bends down slightly, bringing his face closer to Connor. He tries to press back into the couch, but there isn’t much give, and his fear ratchets up another few notches. 

“No more questions.” Nine says simply and a command runs in Connor’s system

>RESTRAIN().SPEECH DEACTIVATE

Nine promptly removes his hand from Connor’s mouth and stalks over to the chair by the window and sits down. Connor’s mouth hangs open and he tries to speak only for nothing to come out. 

_ Oh god _ , Connor thinks to himself. _ This is so much worse _ . Connor tries to take a deep breath to calm himself, and nothing happens. Panic grips him as he realizes that Nine shut off his breathing mechanism as well. He has no way to calm himself. No way to call out to ask Nine to reverse it. For a brief second, Connor is still, not sure what to do. But then as his stress skyrockets, he begins to shift around leaning down the couch and smacking his useless hands against the couch, trying to get Nine’s attention. Nine doesn’t look back at him. Frustrated, he lifts his legs enough to make noise as he lets them fall back down quickly. 

The stomping on the floorboards is enough to get Nine to look back, wondering what Connor’s deal was. He quickly registers the full blown panic and terror in Connor’s eyes and he leaps up from the seat to reconnect to him. Connor’s panic messages seem to smack him in the face. 

>I NEED TO BREATHE

>GIVE THAT BACK 

Instantly, Nine reaches back into the program to adjust the settings. 

>RESTRAIN().SPEECH.BREATHING SET ACTIVE

Connor feels the shift and immediately sucks in a large lungful of air, pushing it out just as fast. Nine locks eyes with Connor, and is shaken to see how fully blown wide his eyes are. He had scared him far more than he had intended to,  _ again _ . Nine’s hand still wrapped around Connor’s wrist. Connor could feel Nine’s hesitancy and regret, barely seeping through Nine’s walls and the dulled barrier of the restraining program placed over Connor’s own processes. Interesting, Connor thought to himself. 

Nine stayed still for a moment longer, and Connor took this opportunity, knowing he might not get another chance. He sent Nine some of his memories. He sent his favorite memories of Hank, a few of cuddling with Sumo, and of helping Markus in Jericho after the revolution. 

>I don’t want to lose this, this is what I want to be able to return to. Please understand.

Connor sends it off, with his note just as Nine yanks his hand off of Connor’s wrist. Nine knows that Connor sent him something, but he doesn’t dare open it just yet. It could be retaliation for how Nine just upset him. Connor watches Nine, still breathing decently fast, still trying to drop his high stress levels. Nine keeps his eyes on Connor, watching him, trying to analyze if Connor gave him something malicious before he realized that he could just ask him. 

“Connor, what you sent me, is it malicious, nod yes or no.” Nine growls loudly, all his instinctively yelling at him to delete the files immediately. But Connor’s head immediately shakes no vigorously. Nine seems satisfied by that answer to Connor, and he retreats back to his chair by the window, leaving Connor alone for the minute. 

Cautiously, Nine opens the files. He reads the note first, and wonders what the other things could possibly be that Connor thought that they would be convincing. Nine turns towards the window as he opens the memory files. 

An older man laughs raucously next to Connor on a couch while a large dog whirled around in the middle of the room. The dog had something in his mouth that he tossed back and forth while the old man laughed at the dog, happily playing with this mystery item. The memory fades and the next one fades in. The view is laying sideways, the room is the same but it’s early morning light that comes through the windows now. There’s a large rug? On the couch with Connor? Oh no, the same dog from earlier is laying, apparently on top of Connor, and his hand comes into view as he reaches up to scratch behind the large ears of the creature. Nine wonders why he does this before the head of the large creature turns to give him a slobbery kiss and they sets it’s head over the shoulder of Connor. The memories continue, showing more of this old man who Connor later calls Hank and Nine realizes that this is the lieutenant. He looks so different up close, and smiling, that Nine hadn’t recognized him. 

These memories fade out though, and a whole other set of memories fade in. These memories feature other deviants, some PL600 model whom Connor calls Simon. Another memory is with a woman android with blue hair and another with shorter hair, they laugh at something off to the side and Connor seems to be laughing with them. The next memory has a small child model trying to help Connor shovel the front sidewalk to Jericho, before he chides them for being out in the cold when it can affect them so harshly. The child argues that Connor is out here, so he can be out there. Connor only smiles and ruffles the kid’s hair, ushering them back inside. He returns to shoveling by himself. It’s strangely peaceful, the repetitive motion and sounds soothing to Connor and by extension, Nine. 

The memories fade away entirely, and Nine is left feeling odd. He tries to place the feeling, but he’s not sure that this is one that he’s felt before. It’s similar he supposes to what he earlier defined as loneliness. He may be deviant, but his interactions with other deviants have been… strained at best. Most of the time they end up being scared off and Nine is by himself again. 

Nine thinks he might understand what Connor means about wanting to go back to this, it seems nice. The new feeling blooms stronger in his chest and Nine begins to wonder what it is when he realizes that it feels like a mix of jealousy and loneliness. He searches online for something that is a mix of those two feelings and the internet provides him with the word melancholy as the best fit for that. It’s not exactly the feeling, but Nine feels a bit better knowing that there are others who must feel similarly. Nine finds himself wishing that he even had a chance for these kinds of moments of happiness. But he knows that he cannot ever have these. He is too strange, too much a machine to be able to have something like this. He regrets opening the files. 

Connor wonders what Nine thinks of the memories he gave him, watching Nine out of the corner of his eye. He sees that Nine is looking out the window again, but he doubts that Nine is truly paying it any attention anymore. It’s just to keep his face hidden from Connor. But Connor can clearly see as Nine’s hand comes up to wipe something from his eye, and them Nine is standing and is back behind the couch where Connor cannot see him without trying to turn around. And Connor isn’t going to watch him, especially when turning around on this small couch would be very difficult and would probably result in him falling off it and onto the floor.

After a decent chunk of time has passed and the light coming through the blinds seems to indicate to Connor that it’s nearly noon, Nine stirs. To Connor’s surprise, Nine appears in his vision, crouching down to be near his eye level. Tentatively, Nine’s hand reaches out to grab Connor’s wrist once more. 

>RESTRAIN().SPEECH ACTIVATE

Nine doesn’t look at Connor, carefully getting up and letting go of his hand. He gets up and checks the front door silent. Connor knows he can speak again, but now he’s very unsure of what to say. He doesn’t know where Nine sits and how he feels about what Connor has shown him. It’s too dangerous. 

“I am sorry Connor. For whatever that is worth at this point.” Nine says softly from down the hall. Connor’s heart nearly stops. Does that mean that new orders have come in? Is he about to die? What if Nine just leaves him here? What if-

“I never meant to do you any harm. You will return to your normal life, I promise you that. It was selfish of me to do any of this.” Nine’s voice is even quieter now, and Connor’s eyes are locked onto Nine’s back, shocked. 

“What do you mean, selfish?” Connor asks, his brows pinching together as he tries to figure out how following an order is selfish. Nine sighs from down the hall. 

“It was my original order to kidnap you yes, but I deviated.” Nine pauses, “Something is broken. I thought completing the mission might help. But it did not.” Connor frowns. There was more to be told here, but Nine was still holding back pertinent information. Connor did not want to ask however as Nine has certainly proved volatile in the past few hours. He had to make it out of this. It didn’t matter whether he intended for Connor to get hurt or not, he did get hurt already and might get hurt again. 

“If you mean me no harm, and finishing the mission didn’t change anything, why not let me go?” Connor asks quietly, not sure that he wants to hear the answer. Nine stiffens. Connor has a point. Why hasn’t he let him go? If capturing him hadn’t changed anything in the first nearly 24 hours, then why would it change anything after that? It was a failure. He didn’t need Connor here anymore, right? Connor couldn’t help him, right?

But then it occurs to Nine, that perhaps he’d been keeping Connor as some last shred of hope. One last ditch effort to make things right, to bring things back to order.Or perhaps, a more sinister thread sang, that he was only holding onto him because it’s the first time he has been able to sit and talk with another deviant without them running away in fear.  _ But you made it so he couldn’t leave, Nine _ , he reminded himself. He’s not sure which to believe but he’s not sure he’s really ready to let him go yet either. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone. Nine isn’t sure what to tell Connor. So he changes the subject. 

“I must leave for a small bit. There is more activity in this area than usual. If you are okay with it, I would like to hide you so that even if squatters enter, they cannot harass you while you cannot defend yourself.” Nine says, walking back into the main room, but not looking at Connor. He doesn’t want to force Connor to reply to him. That does not build trust. 

Connor’s frown deepens, but eventually he sighs a small bit. “That would be preferable I suppose.” Nine takes that as a yes, and he asks one more question. 

“Are you okay with small spaces?” Nine looks at him this time. He needs to be sure Connor is telling the truth. He doesn’t want to make Connor uncomfortable during this potentially extended time away. Connor’s face twists as he feels the effects. 

“Yes and no. If I am locked inside, definitely no. If I could potentially get out then yes.” Connor says. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, it’s very disorienting.” Connor mutters to himself more than anything. He knows that Nine probably just wanted to be sure. Nine laughs cold and shortly. 

“I can’t turn it off. I’ve tried.” Nine states before pulling on the couch, pulling Connor forward. The couch slid easily and Connor watched in silence, wondering how Nine is able to talk to any other deviants. Maybe he doesn’t, Connor thinks. But Nine is close to him again, hovering uncertain for a moment. But then Nine seems to shake the feeling and scoops Connor up, an arm under his legs and one behind his back, easily lifting him. He side steps the couch and Connor is able to see now the hole in the flooring that had been hidden by the couch. Oh. 

Nine carefully lowers Connor into the hole and there’s a pillow and some blankets laid out. Connor wants to complain about being literally hidden in a hole, but he understands that it’s probably for the best, as anti android crime is still high, and he is defenceless. Nine rests his hand on Connor’s wrist for a moment as he runs the command again. 

>RESTRAIN().SPEECH DEACTIVATE

>RESTRAIN().SPEECH.BREATH SET ACTIVE

Connor was almost hoping he would forget to take that, but Nine was too thorough for that. Connor sighed, rolling his head to the side. Nine paused, looking at him with what Connor thinks might be something like guilt. 

“Would you prefer to sleep? I can make that easy for you.” Nine asks after a moment. Connor thinks for a bit before responding through the connection still maintained through Nine’s grip on his wrist. _ I want to sleep eventually, but not right away. I’ll be okay. _

Nine frowns. “I can still help with that.” He says and after a moment of coded exchanges through their connection, he lets go. “There. That should do it.” Nine says, satisfied. He pauses, letting go of his hand. He looks like he wants to says something, but stops himself. Connor wonders what he has on his mind, but it’s not like he can really ask anymore anyways. He sighs to himself again as Nine stands up and pushes the couch back over the hole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and so we learn more about Nine, and Connor is left more helpless than before!
> 
> poor Connor, I tried to make it obvious that his ways of stress coping would be warmth, and deep breathing
> 
> Hopefully you guys liked it!   
> Let me know what you think! <3


	6. Bittersweet

It’s chilly outside still, and although Nine is wrapped in more layers than he’d usually go for, the wind still seems to bite through all of them in one gust. The trip to the convenience store is long and lonely. Many of Detroit’s residents had yet to return to the city, as the revolution had only occurred just a month and a half ago. Many humans were forsaking the city or simply choosing not to return. It made for a quiet trip through the deserted streets. 

Nine knew that what he was doing was not logical, but when had anything he had done recently been logical. This was just another event in a long string of illogical events. He wanted the fresh air anyways. He wanted some space to think through what Connor had said to him, and what he had shown him. 

Nine knew that he was being selfish. He could have just left Connor alone, and figured out his stuff by himself, gotten someone to take care of the errors popping off in his vision so often. But he felt drawn to Connor, whether by the mission initially or by the fact that they are the closest in model type that he figures he will ever find. He has a far flung hope that perhaps Connor might be the android to finally accept him, instead of running. But even that, he’s forcing on Connor. He’s not trusting Connor enough to let him have the option of running. 

But yet here Nine is, trying to find something to buy for Connor to keep him less bored. Nine just needs more time. He’s not sure why he can’t let Connor go just yet, but he can’t. But he also doesn’t want to be his source of distress or overwhelming boredom which leads Connor to asking more upsetting questions. Why does he ask so many questions? Nine frowns at the snow under his feet. He’s so caught up in his thinking that he nearly doesn’t see the cop car that is slowly patrolling the snowy streets. But as he does, he ducks behind a trash bin and waits for it to pass. Odd. The cops haven’t been around here in quite some time. Perhaps he left some sort of trail?

Nine continues on, more aware of his surroundings now, and before long he makes it to the store unseen. He slips inside, pulling his hat down more, to hide his LED. He knows that it’s fine to show his LED for the most part, but it still makes him feel exposed and strange in public places, so he prefers not to. He thinks this might be a deviant feeling. He quickly scans up and down each aisle, trying to determine what might occupy Connor’s mind the best and what he might like. 

He comes across some sudoku books and considers them for a few moments. Connor would probably like these. But that would require his hands. Perhaps he could be trusted with hand motion as long as he was in sight. Nine takes the book with him, stopping to grab some pencils as well as some pens from the rack. The next thing that catches his eye is a pad of paper. Connor had been writing when Nine had kidnapped him from his home. Hmm, perhaps that might not be the best thing to get him, now that he’s thinking about it. 

The last thing that Nine sees as a potential, is a rack full of paperback novels. There’s a whole shelf full of novels about crimes and cops. Nine chuckles to himself as he picks one up at random that seems like Connor might like. He purchases all the items and is on his way out of the store when a light catches his eye. The blinking red light of the security camera, blinks at him as he walks through the doorway on his way out. He has an idea. A bad idea, but an idea. He gets outside the store and he’s alarmed to see that his hands are shaking. 

He looks up at the CCTV cameras outside the store and waves, smiling at the camera. Say cheese, he thinks to himself. Then he turns and walks in the opposite direction than he needs to go. He moves quickly, and ducks around a corner before looping back towards the suburbs. He pauses on a deserted block still 15 minutes away from the house where he takes a minute to try to lower his stress levels. Why did he do that?!? Was he trying to get caught?! ~~yes~~

He continues after a bit of deep breathing, emulating what Connor seemed to do when his stress went up. It seemed to help a lot, and now Nine felt even worse for shutting off his ability to breathe when he was super stressed out. That had to have been terrible. Nine continues to trudge towards his temporary home. He’s been gone for a while, nearly 3 already. He didn’t realize how long he’d spent picking out items for Connor. He picked up the pace, anxious to get back. 

He stops just short of the house when he realizes that there are cops canvassing the area, and they’re checking all the abandoned houses! He hides behind a house just a bit away, and watches with baited breath as they enter the home where Connor is hidden. He hopes that Connor had given into sleep by now, or else this was about to become rather more upsetting for Connor he supposed. 

 

Connor was asleep under the floorboards when the door creaked open. He did not stir. Slow and methodical footsteps checked each and every room of the house. The house was empty Hank thinks sullenly. He sighs and turns to Gavin, who has just returned from the upper floor of the house. 

“Goddammit another false fucking lead. No one’s here.” Hank gripes. Gavin looks annoyed as well. Connor wakes up to Hank’s voice. 

Connor can hear him! He’s here! He opens his mouth momentarily forgetting that he has no voice and is crushed to remember that he cannot call out to Hank. He’s right there though! Connor can see his feet through the crack between the floorboards and the bottom of the couch. He wants to reach up, to bang on the couch with his useless hands, but he’s just so tired. Everything is very heavy, and Connor can’t get his arm to raise more than an inch before it falls back down even though he’s using a gargantuan amount of energy. Nine’s programmed nap is a very strong program Connor realizes sluggishly. 

“We’ll find him Hank. It’s only been a day, there’s still a really good chance he’s just fine.” Gavin reasons with Hank. Connor not sure that he heard it right but that sounded like Gavin? Why would he be helping look for Connor? Connor hears Hank sigh, and then the couch above him groans and stretches as someone sits down on it. Connor wishes he had the energy to breathe faster, because his stress levels are rising quickly. 

Hank looks at Gavin from where he sits on the couch and says, “Yeah, I know. I just can’t help imagining the worst.” Hank scrubs at his face with his hands. Connor’s eyes start to well up with tears, knowing that Hank was literally just a few feet from him, and yet was none the wiser. He tried again and again to lift a leg, an arm, bang his head on something to make noise, but there was too many blankets down here and his body was barely responding to him, the programmed nap that Nine laid on him keeping him very very tired. 

Hank sighs one last time, and gets up from the couch. He and Gavin sullenly exit the building and Gavin slams the door shut on the way out, causing Connor to flinch. And just like that, they were gone. Connor’s mouth opened and he tried to scream but again nothing came out. The tears flowed freely now, as he tried to sob, but there was no way he could even make a sound. This, he decided, was the absolute worst. He had been so close! 

More time passes and Connor wishes that he could at least connect his internal clock to the internet so he knew what time it really was. But no, he was in Limbo in all senses and he floundered mentally trying to figure out exactly how long he’d been missing for. But his thinking is interrupted eventually but the door opening again. Connor stiffens. Is it Nine, or Hank? Or a stranger? 

He isn’t left to wonder for long though as the couch is pushed aside and Nine comes into view. He looks down at Connor, and is surprised to see that he’s got tears in his eyes and streaked down his face. He looks rather upset Nine gathers. He crouches down next to the hole, gently scooping Connor up, and Connor refuses to look at him as he’s placed back onto the couch. Nine doesn’t blame him, he figured it was only so long until Connor hated him. He pushes the couch back over the hole. He turns Connor’s speech back on, and returns to his seat by the window. 

The cop cars have long since faded into the evening light and Connor still won’t speak. Nine knows he could compel him. But he’s not sure that he really wants to know. Connor feels a flicker of the urge to speak as Nine glances at him briefly. Connor is nearly asleep, Nine’s program still heavy on him. Perhaps it would be best for Connor to sleep for a while Nine thinks to himself. He didn’t want to upset him more than he already was. 

Connor knows that the sleepiness he feels is from the program but he wishes more than anything in that moment to fall asleep and wake up in his bed at home. He desperately wants this all to have been just a bad dream. It’s a childlike desire, he knows, but he can’t help but dream it. He sniffles a little bit as he fades into sleep, and Nine hopes that Connor at least dreams of something nice, and not anything to do with this. 

Their hopes are in vain, however. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... I feel like a terrible person for putting Connor through that.... 
> 
> if only Hank knew just how close he had been, he'd be kicking himself.   
> He'll be preoccupied with other things though tonight. 
> 
> no rest for the wicked.
> 
> Let me know what you think! <3


	7. No Sanctity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pre warning, there is some very heavy stuff in this chapter. trigger warnings for hospitals, abusers, domestic abuse, and mentions of rape.   
> Please be safe in reading friends!

Hank speeds on the way back to the precinct, and he’s oblivious to the way that Gavin braces himself in the passenger seat for each turn and stop. He’s focused on the drive, and for that at least, Gavin is thankful. He reminds himself to never ride with Hank again, as this is certainly terrifying. They make it to the precinct just fine, and they both go back to their regular routine of silently disliking each other from across the room while they worked on finding Connor. 

Hank had been on the force for only god knows how long now, and he was usually quite good at not getting his hopes up with anonymous tips during missing persons and hostage cases. He never had to deal with them very often. But it was a whole other ball game when it was someone you knew personally, when it was your family, your son. Hank looked at the new framed picture on his desk of Hank, Connor and Sumo cuddling on the couch, smiling. Simon had taken their picture and sent it framed and all to Hank’s work. The office had crooned over it, Tina in particular. Hank sighs again. God dammit. 

They make an excursion to a suburb of abandoned homes nearly 30 minutes from the precinct around noon. They’ve received an anonymous tip about an android squatter who looked more suspicious than usual. They find nothing in the homes after a few hours of searching, and Hank had sat on a beat up couch and worried aloud to Gavin before they gave up the ghost in that area to return to the precinct. 

The 24 hour mark passes uneventfully, and Hank’s barely scraped together optimism is fading fast. Things around the precinct seem to slow to a crawl as Hank and Gavin sort through the evidence they have, and try to guess at where things will take them next. Gavin’s tip about the money was well founded and they had discovered that an atm had been hacked two days ago and nearly one thousand dollars in cash was missing. The serial numbers of the money had been logged, as Gavin had suspected. But none of the money had been logged as showing up anywhere else yet besides the three hundred that was in the envelope with the note. 

Gavin had a search running for the serial numbers, checking again every hour. Hank wasn’t sure what else they could do though besides just hit the streets checking the previous known areas to see if anyone saw anything. After a few hours of running and re running the searches and looking through the same evidence and not finding anything different, Fowler sends them home. He puts some other young officers on it to watch the searches with explicit orders to contact Hank if anything comes up. Hank isn’t sure if he’s thankful, or if he’s frustrated. Probably a bit of both, he decides after a moment. He looks to Gavin.

“Well, you comin?” Gavin looks up at Hank, confused for a moment. 

“What? I could go get a motel Hank, it’s not the end of the world.” Gavin says, yawning a small bit. 

“With what car are you gonna do that?” Hank replies, lifting an eyebrow. He knew that Gavin shared his partner’s vehicle for the most part, and taxis are very expensive right now with most of detroit still being rather empty. Gavin gets the hint and rolls his eyes. 

“Fine. But we’re getting food on the way.” He gets up and gathers his few things, following Hank out the door. Hank would never tell him but he really didn’t want to be alone. Things have turned grimmer in Hank’s mind than he’d like to admit and some company would keep him from dancing with lady luck. On their way back to the house, Hank remembers that Gavin doesn’t have any more clothes either. 

“Hey, do you want to swing by your place and pick up some clothes and stuff?” Hank asks lightly, paying attention to the road more than anything else. Gavin chews his lip while he thinks. His partner shouldn’t be home right now. Gavin prays that his key still works. 

“Yeah, let's do that. It’ll be pretty quick.” Gavin says, thankful that Hank thought of it. But regardless his heart picks up at the idea of returning, and the potential of seeing him. He’s nervous, he realizes. 

It isn’t long before they pull up to the apartment complex, with Gavin’s detailed directions. Hank shifts into park, and Gavin hops out quickly, trying his key and counting his lucky stars when it pops open easily. He darts inside and starts to gather some things to last him a few days. He’s in the bedroom shoving shirts and pants into a duffel bag when he hears Hank honk his horn. He pauses, that’s odd. 

But then the door to the apartment opens again. Gavin’s blood turns to ice. He didn’t want to face him. He wanted to slip away, god dammit. He shoves the last shirt into the bag and instead of zipping it, he holds it closed. Maybe he can still sneak away before- 

“GAVIN. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE” Neil roared from the living room. Fuck. This isn’t good. Gavin weighs his options. He could go out there, and face Neil. Or he could dart across the hall to the bathroom and slip out the window like he did last time. Chances that Neil did something about the escape route are pretty good though, and Gavin figures that he has a better chance of evading Neil straight up, now that it doesn’t catch him off guard. 

Gavin steps out of the bedroom, into the living room only to catch a fist to the face instantly. The world spins. His head slams back with the force of the impact and knocks against the doorframe. Spots flash in his eyes as Neil winds up again. 

Another impact in his gut. Gavin lets out a guttural grunt and slides down the door frame. “I told you I’d kill you if you came back. Didn’t you believe me? Or did you think you could just come back and grovel for forgiveness?” Neil sneered. A kick connects with Gavin’s pelvis and he nearly hurls. Everything is spinning awfully still, and there was dull throbbing blossoming from the back of his head. He looks up at Neil, looks up to the man whom he had chosen to love, and saw only a monster of a man. 

Neil’s strong dark frame looks even more intimidating from this angle and while Gavin had once admired his strength, it now shook something in him. He doesn’t have much time to think about it though, as Neil’s patronizing look shifts to something more sinister again as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the knife Gavin bought him last year for Christmas. It flicks open with a sickening SNICK, and Gavin’s stomach drops. 

The door opens slowly, as it had been left ajar, but neither Neil nor Gavin notice it. Their eyes are locked together, Gavin’s fearful and pleading. Hank raises his gun. 

“Step away.” Hank’s voice commands from the doorway, and he takes an extra step or two into the apartment. Neil whips around, blade in hand, his eyes wild. Gavin’s eyes slide to Hank for a moment before they’re back on Neil, wary. 

“Fuck.” Neil snarls, and makes a break for the patio door across the living room. Hank’s gun follows him like a fly on shit and with a well placed bullet he’s down on the ground clutching his thigh and howling. Gavin’s eyes widen as he looks at Neil laying on the ground. Hank pulls out his phone to call the precinct.

“Send a patrol car to come pick up this asshat, apartment 9.” Hank rattles off the address, ”I’ll be back to deal with him in the morning. He’s being held for assaulting an officer….” Hank pauses, glancing at Gavin whose eyes are wide as saucers still. “Yeah, discretion in the report would be appreciated.” Another pause. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks Tina.” Click. Hank pockets the phone resolutely. 

Gavin’s eyes slide to Hank as he approaches Neil. Gavin wants to say something but his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton. 

“FUCK YOU, GET OFF ME YOU OLD FUCKFACE!” Neil yells, trying to slide away from Hank, spitting with anger. Hank continues the approach, kicking the knife away from either of their reach. Gavin’s not sure what’s going on in Hank’s mind, his face is an impassive mask as he calmly approaches despite Neil’s simple threats. He makes the arrest easily overpowering Neil, gaining the upper hand when he ‘accidentally’ kneels on the wound he had inflicted. Gavin winces and looks away when Neil screams. Hank reads him his rights and lets him lie on the floor, stepping back and wiping some blood off his pants. 

“HEy, aren’t you gonna stop that bleeding?!?!” Neil asks, incredulous as Hank steps back. Hank shrugs at him. 

“Didn’t hit anything important, you’ll be just fine.” Hank says coldly before turning to Gavin and crouching down to his level on the floor. Gavin stares at Neil on the floor, feeling almost numb. He’s aware that Hank’s talking to him, but it doesn’t seem to make any sense. Hank waves a hand in front of Gavin’s eyes slowly, watching as Gavin flinches and looks at him finally with fear still in his eyes. Hank’s mouth is moving but Gavin isn’t listening. 

Neil stirs a bit, yelling back at Hank. “You leave him alone! He don’t deserve no fuckin pity. Fucking weakling, that's what he is.” Gavin’s eyes snap back to Neil, and Hank can swear he sees Gavin stiffen. Hank has had enough. He grabs Gavin’s duffel bag, grabs Gavin by the arm and hauls him up and out the door. Tina should be here in a few minutes. He tosses Gavin’s bag in his backseat, and puts Gavin in the passenger seat. He leans against the side of his car.

After a few minutes, Tina arrives as expected. She looks quizzically at Hank, before noticing Gavin in the front seat. A moment’s glance tells her all she needs, the black eye Gavin is sporting is already starting to shine up. She waves goodbye to Hank and heads inside to gather Neil. She’d suspected for a while that things weren’t right in Gavin’s house, he’d lied to her about a bruise one too many times in the past, but she’d hoped that Gavin would just leave him. She supposed that this got him away as well, but it was almost exactly what she wanted to avoid in domestic situations. She sighed, dragging Neil’s loud ass down to the hospital to dig the slug out of his leg. 

Hank pulls out of the parking lot, turning off the music entirely as they make their way down the road. They drive in silence for a bit, Gavin still very spaced out as far as Hank can tell. He finally gives and pulls into an empty parking lot. He shifts into park and Gavin turns to him confused as to why they’re stopping here. 

“How’s your head? Looks like he got a decent hit in.” Hank asks gruffly, his frown settling. Gavin thinks about it for a moment. 

“Iss okay. It doesnn hurt too bad.” Gavin slurs, pausing as he recognizes the slur in his own voice. Hank’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Gavin, what day is it?” Gavin frowns, thinking. It might be Saturday? Wait. no. no work on Saturdays. Hank’s frown deepens. 

“Do you know where you are, or how you got here?” Hank presses, watching Gavin closely. Gavin frowns more as he realizes that he doesn’t. It’s all a blur beyond the initial impact he suffered. Slowly, he shakes his head no. 

“Okay, don’t shake your head. We’re going to get you checked out then before we go home. How’d you get a fuckin concussion of all things between all this bullshit.” Hank shifts the car into reverse, muttering to himself. They make a beeline for the hospital, and it isn’t long before they’re sat in a waiting room. The white walls make Hank feel like he wants to hit something. He had wanted to sit in the parking lot and wait, but he wasn’t risking Gavin being in here by himself. He’d never seen Gavin so quiet in his life and it was a bit too eerie for Hank’s liking. 

Thankfully for Hank the doctors knew a concussion when they saw it, and a nurse caught a glimpse of a bruise across Gavin’s neck and a few of the nicks on his ribcage as he pulled off a sweatshirt, trying to cool down. It wasn’t long before they were whisked into a more private room, and Hank’s glad of it. He was worried that Neil would be here getting that bullet removed and the last thing Gavin needed was to see his attacker again. The nurse from earlier re-entered the room. 

“Hello again, so Gavin,” she says gently, making sure to stand in front of Gavin’s line of sight so he focuses on her instead of the floor. “It’s standard procedure for us to do a full examination when the injury is related to a crime, so that it’s easier to report on. Is that okay with you? You don’t have to, but-” Gavin’s eyes seem to deaden even more than before.

“Do it. I don’t care, just get it done.” He rasps, and Hank looks at him, his brows coming together with worry. He’s seen that response before in others. Victims of far nastier crimes than domestic violence, even though that alone is still not a benign crime in the first place. Hank wants to shake the awful feeling that comes but he’s not sure he’ll be able to. 

“I’ll step out.” Hank says to Gavin after the nurse leaves him with the hospital gown to change into. Gavin’s head snaps towards Hank, and Hank worries for a moment about him aggravating the injury. 

“...okay.” Gavin says eventually, and it’s so quiet that Hank nearly doesn’t hear it. Gavin’s eyes are wide again, and Hank can see from the heart monitor how quickly Gavin’s heart rate jumped up. He sits back down. 

“I won’t leave if you don’t want me to.” Hank says, determined to try to make this as easy for Gavin as possible. Gavin stares at him for a moment before swallowing. 

Gavin’s eyes return to their dull look from before. Hank nods to himself, knowing he won’t leave now and they return to their silence. Hank averts his gaze as Gavin slowly changes, gripping tightly to the counter in the room as he sheds his layers. 

Hank hears Gavin hiss with pain as he tries to pull off his t-shirt that had been underneath his button up. It’s stuck on his arms and Hank gets up to help him untangle himself. It’s at this point that Hank sees the multitude of layered bruises that decorate Gavin’s chest and back. Some layers are clearly older, yellowing near the edges where they’re starting to heal. Others are deep purple and shiny, fresh and painful looking. Hank’s hands holding Gavin’s shirt are suddenly white knuckling though when Gavin shifts, putting his arms down and it’s clear that there are tons of small cuts all over his torso. 

Hank sees a bit of red for a moment until he realizes that Gavin clearly embarrassed, refusing to look at him while Hank gawks at his damaged body. Hank flushes with a bit of color himself, turning away to add the shirt to the pile of clothes. Hank wants to say something, to put Gavin a little more at ease, to scrub away the disgust Hank felt for how Neil must have treated him. These were not all recent. Some looked as old as a few months old. All in the central body, to be easily hidden. But Hank didn’t know what to say, what could he say to make something like this better? Nothing. So he said that, nothing. 

But soon after, Gavin was done, and the nurse was back. She pulled the little curtain around herself and Gavin, reminding Gavin gently that Hank was just on the other side, and they could stop at any time. Gavin nods at that, and they begin. It’s nearly ten minutes later when she’s asking questions about each injury that Hank feels like his head is going to explode he’s so upset. Every question she asks, Gavin’s answers vary, but all amount to the same meaning. He did something wrong, or said something wrong and Neil punished him accordingly. When the nurse asks about the burns near his armpits, Gavin pauses. The silence is tense for Hank. He feels like he shouldn’t be listening to this, like Gavin shouldn’t be trusting him with this information. Surely he’s got someone better to help with this, right? 

“I...” Gavin says shakily. “He set popsicle sticks... on fire.. and- and put them out on me.” He says finally, clearly needing to say more, but unwilling to. Hank sees red again as he remembers how quiet Reed had been when Connor had managed to get that android to tell the story of why it deviated. How quiet Reed had been when Ortiz’s android had talked about how Carlos had put out cigarettes on him repeatedly. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. He had thought that Reed had been upset that Connor had been effective in interrogation when he had not. This was so much worse. If Hank had been upset before the nurse’s next words, gentle and soothing in tone, he would be infuriated after them. 

“Gavin, I think we should do a rape kit today too. If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But I think it might be a good idea.” Her voice is quieter, trying to give Gavin some more privacy. Hank can imagine how concerned her face must look. He doesn’t want to imagine the look on Gavin’s face. Hank wants to leave, wants to give Gavin the privacy to decide this for himself, but the look Gavin had given him earlier had clearly screamed not to leave him. Hank stayed fixed in his seat, barely breathing. 

“I took a shower. It’s probably pointless.” Gavin’s voice hangs in the air. Hank’s heart tightens at the admission. 

“It’s okay, we can still give it a shot if you want. Most times we still find enough for the kit. Especially if it was less than 48 hours ago.” She says slowly, letting Gavin have some time to think about it. A heavy sigh wafts over the curtain before he replies. 

“... yeah. Okay. let’s do that.” Gavin says quietly. 

Hank’s heart feels like it’s going to burst with how much it aches in sympathy. The nurse pops out for a second to fetch the kit. After a moment, Gavin’s shaking hand pulls back the curtain a bit to peer out at Hank with wide eyes. 

“... I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have dragged you into this” Gavin almost whispers and Hank feels for the third time that day like yelling. 

“Gavin, you do not have to apologize for this. You never have to apologize for any of this. Ever.” Hank says intently. Gavin swallows and Hank can see a glimmer of extra wetness in his eyes. “Do you want me to stay for this, or should I wait outside? Whatever is going to make this easier.” Hank asks gently, steering the conversation away a bit. Gotta stay on track. Gavin stops, and thinks. He grimaces and shifts uncomfortably. 

“I think I’d like to be alone for that.” He says quietly, not looking at Hank. 

Hank stands up quietly and exits the room, standing outside the door. He’s silently thankful for an escape. He’s not sure how to process all this information. He knew that Gavin had issues, he wasn’t blind. He’s a goddamn detective for fucks sake. He just thought that Gavin liked to pick bar fights, he thought that the dude was hostile because he got some sort of sick pleasure out of being an asshole. But now all those ideas of who he thought Gavin was, were falling away. 

He started to see an abuse victim, driving others away to keep the abuse hidden. He sees a scared man with no one to turn to, and a whole hell of a lot of hurt. It reminds him of the feeling he had when Gavin had been drunk. He feels like he’s looking in a mirror, although warped and distorted, he sees a bit of himself in the young man. Pushing everyone else away so they never got close enough to see how messed up everything was. He standing there for a bit, lost in thought when he sees Tina come out from another room down the hall. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of Hank, and she makes her way over.  

“Hank? I thought you were allergic to hospitals.” She teased, but worry creased her forehead. She knew it had to be bad if Hank was here. She peered curiously towards the door of the room but the blinds were down and for good reason. 

“Tina,” Hank started, waiting till she looked him in the eye. “You didn’t see me here, you’re not going to mention this at the precinct and you will never mention this in front of Gavin. Capice?” Hank says, staring her down. Her worry rises instantly. Hesitantly she responds. 

“Yeah, deal. What’s going on Hank?” She tries. But Hank just shakes his head. He can’t speak a lick of what he just heard, he’d take that to his grave. Instead he just steps forward and pulls her into a hug. Confused, she returns the hug but decides to honor his wishes when Hank whispers in her ear, “Please Tina. Please.” 

They seperate and Tina is still worried, but she trusts Hank, and she nods. Eventually, she walks back down the hall to check on her suspect, the whiniest asshole she’s had in a while. Hank sighs a heavy sigh of relief as she goes back into the room she came from, giving him one last concerned look, just as the nurse exited the room. She pauses by Hank, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the arm and a sad smile. 

“He’s going to need some help getting dressed, dear.” she says gently before she’s whisked away into the hubub of the hospital ER. Hank takes a deep breath in and out before steeling himself and going back in after knocking. 

He helps Gavin dress quietly, using clothes that they had from the duffel bag. He wanted to trash the clothes that Gavin had before, but he remembers that they might be evidence if Gavin chooses to press charges. It makes him feel sick to his stomach. The nurse returns after a while to run them through the release paperwork and gives Hank the instructions for caring for someone with a concussion. From the sounds of it, Gavin wasn’t allowed to sleep for more than a few hours at a time before Hank had to wake him up to ask him questions to make sure it wasn’t getting worse. 

They said it was only a mid level concussion, but Hank still was worried. They told him to take regular painkillers and to rest. Then Hank took him out of the hospital and straight home. Gavin’s consistent quiet was still unnerving but Hank’s very aware of how jarring this whole evening must be for him. Hank mentally kicks himself for bringing Gavin back into danger, back into his abuser’s hands, but he hadn’t known! 

They make it inside of Hank’s house, and Hank puts Sumo outside for the time being, Gavin seems too upset to deal with an excited dog. Gavin finds his way to the couch before Hank turns away from the back door. He’s utterly exhausted. Gavin’s head spins with all his worst nightmares, and he lays his head down, tears leaking out the side of his eyes. Hank hovers worriedly at the back of the couch, unsure of what exactly to do for him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hank asks gently after a moment. A heavy and long suffering sigh exits Gavin. 

“No, not really.” He eventually replies, shaky and thick with emotion. Hank nods to himself, and fetches the only box of tissues he’s got. He almost tosses them onto the ottoman before realizing that would probably scare him in this state. He walks around to set them down quietly, and heads to his room. 

“My door’s cracked, yell if you need anything. Don’t forget I’m waking you up in a few hours.” Hank says kindly, before going to lay in bed. This was going to be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof.
> 
> Gavin has some hurt piled up too guys. He has reasons to be an ass, and Hank is more empathetic than we usually give him credit for.
> 
> Apologies if that chapter was a bit dark, I needed there to be some more solid reasoning for why Gavin's change of heart wasn't so spur of the moment. It seemed to me that he lashes out at everyone in the precinct and pushes them away to hide his own issues. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! <3


	8. Crucible

It’s daylight that wakes Connor next, his eyes cracking open slowly at the request of the morning light. He lays still on the couch, blinking a few times as his situation comes rushing back to him. His hands lay curled uselessly in his lap, and he just wants to scream he’s so frustrated again. He knows he could, Nine had given him back his voice earlier. But that would only incite the anger of Nine again, and Connor logically knows that he could only do that a small amount of times before it might end up fatal to him. Despite what Nine said to him about not wanting to hurt him, Connor knows that Nine was the one with all the power right now, and one angry slip is all it takes. 

He shakes away the depressing thoughts of that kind of moment and peers around the room. Nine is at his usual post at the table by the window, seated and looking out. Connor wonders to himself if Nine gets bored of doing that, but he supposes it is important, considering that Hank was literally here last night. Ugh. last night. Just thinking about it makes his throat feel like it’s swelling up. Connor shifts his weight around, trying to displace the uncomfortable feeling that has begun to settle on him. Nine’s head turns slightly, but then slowly returns to the window. 

The silence starts to feel suffocating to Connor, as he’s out of distractions, and Nine is nearly out of time. But then Nine speaks. 

“I’m sorry.” He bites out the words, as if they’re causing him pain. Connor watches his back warily. That can’t be it, certainly?

“Sorry for what? Kidnapping me? Crippling me?” Connor asks quietly, and can’t help but notice how Nine flinches. So it does bother him. Nine turns to face him, but pulls a bag out of his coat pocket, setting it on the couch next to Connor. Connor eyes it cautiously, understanding that this is what Nine went to get most likely. But then Nine is sliding onto the couch as well, and Connor is grateful that it is a large couch, as it gives him a modicum of personal space. After a hesitant pause from Nine, he reaches out across the space and gently grasps Connor’s wrist once more. 

Connor is still simmering with frustration and feeling pent up however, and he rips his wrist from Nine’s grasp, not looking at him. 

“You’ve done enough to me, don’t you think? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Connor asks the floor, his face scrunching up in anger. Nine is still. Connor knows that he shouldn’t prod him, but he can’t help it. He’s still tired from Nine’s stupid program that made him miss his chance at escape. He wants to go home, dammit. He doesn’t want to play this dumb waiting game any longer. 

He feels Nine get up from the couch, hears a heavy sigh. Connor hears the rustling of the bag. Then there is quiet once more. Eventually Connor’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he looks at what Nine left of the couch and sees a pack of pens, a sudoku book, and a paperback crime novel. Oh. These seem like they were for Connor, now that he thinks about it. Nine was trying to apologize in his own way, and Connor had yelled at him for it. 

Connor is momentarily surprised that Nine had not lashed out at him for getting upset, but then he realizes that perhaps Nine is trying to make things right, a little bit at a time. He thinks for a while about what to say. 

“Nine, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m frustrated.” Connor says to the house, He’s not sure where Nine disappeared to. The floor creaks behind him, and Connor nearly jumps, but reigns in his reaction quickly.  

“You do not need to apologize to me, if anything it is I who needs to apologize.” Nine says lowly behind Connor, and Connor wishes that he could see him without cranking his neck around. But perhaps Nine was seeking the… privacy that this offered. 

“You did not deserve-” Nine cuts himself off, and Connor’s concern for the situation ratchets up a few notches. A shaky breath behind him, and Connor wishes he wouldn’t do that, it’s unnecessarily creepy when he stands behind him. Nine stops for a moment, before finally coming back around the couch to take a seat. Nine rests his head in his hands, staring at the floor. Connor wonders what is going on inside Nine’s head, he seems to contradict himself often, certainly that must be confusing.  He finds that he has no idea what to do. He finished his last task, he tried. What was there left to do now? Connor watches Nine, and wonders if he should say anything. He can see how tense Nine’s back is. 

“Nine. What are we doing here?” Connor asks quietly exasperated. He’s tired of asking this question and it must fall into his voice because Nine glares at him from behind his hand. The sinking feeling of compulsion returns to Connor’s gut and he barely has time to think,  _ here we go again _ , before he’s opening his mouth. 

“Why can’t you let me go, it doesn’t make logical sense unless you’re acting on illogical feelings of some sort. I could go on to attempt to analyze what those feelings might be but honestly I’m still quite fearful that it might cause you to snap and then I would end up hurt or dead.” Connor finishes quietly, out of breath. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to clear the feeling from his stomach. It is not successful. Nine’s eyes narrow at Connor.

“I doubt that you could understand what I am feeling Connor, you-” Nine stops himself, nostrils flaring a small bit. Connor feels the frustration boil over in his system. 

“Of course I can’t understand! You won’t tell me anything! I have nothing to go on, no way to empathize!” Connor speaks freely, and he knows in the back of his mind that he doesn’t even need Nine’s influence to keep speaking. “Being Deviant is really hard, okay?! I get it! And you clearly aren’t adjusting well! But let someone help you instead of being so drastic!” Connor nearly shouts, and Nine’s glare intensifies. 

“What makes you think I am not adjusting well? I’m fine.” Nine replies tersely. Connor wants to scoff how Hank would at such a misled sentiment but Connor knows Nine is getting dangerously high in stress. 

“...Would a well adjusted being resort to kidnapping to make their problems go away?” Connor asks quieter. Nine raises his eyebrows at him with a look of annoyance but he seems to accept the sentiment behind it. 

“Fine.” Nine bites out the word. “Perhaps things aren’t to plan, but I can’t exactly turn back now.” Nine admits. His eyes shift again to the floor. 

“Why not? I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t just let me go, and we go our separate ways. It would be insanely easy.” Connor reasoned with Nine, perhaps he was breaking through to him. But Nine stiffened at his words. Separate ways. Of course Connor would leave just like all the others. Nine knows that he can’t be around other androids. But this was the nail in the coffin. 

“Separate ways...” Nine repeats to himself almost in a daze. Connor puts two and two together and realizes with a jolt that Nine doesn’t want to be alone. He’s lonely, and willing to do anything for company. Connor understands that being around other androids would be difficult, probably make them uncomfortable. 

“You are lonely.” Connor breathes the words, and Nine snaps out of his reverie to glare again at Connor. “I’m just fine by myself, thank you very fucking much.” Nine snaps harshly and suddenly Connor is quite aware of his position of helplessness should Nine decide to attack. He should lay off. But now Nine is looking at him again, and the gut wrenching compulsion forces open his lips. 

“You’re angry because you feel like you’re bad at being Deviant, aren’t you? You’ve never been allowed to fail at something, and now you’re no good at being a Deviant. But you’re too stubborn to ask for help!” Connor says angrily, letting the realization wash over him as he said it. “You’ve kept me here for this fucking long, because you’re too stubborn to ask for help?! You could have just talked to someONE, ANYONE!” Connor yells, the anger finally boiling over from the last day and a half of restless anxiety. Nine leans across the couch towards him and roars back.

“I DON’T HAVE ANYONE YOU ASSHOLE! THERE ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?!” Nine’s face is inches from Connors, and he can clearly see the raw pain and tears. Connor doesn’t flinch however, he’s not the only one in pain.  “EVERYONE RUNS AWAY FROM ME! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TALK TO ANYONE?! How- how does anyone do this?!” Nine’s voice breaks and falters. Connor’s eyes widen. 

Right then, the front door slams open, 

“DETROIT POLICE, FREEZE!”

And a lot of things happen all at once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next few chapters are going to be short, but they'll be there worry naught! : D
> 
> Let me know what you think!   
> Everything is going to come to a head pretty quick here, but we'll keep going beyond this mini story arc! I have much more planned for this!


	9. Hairpin Trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the single > indent is Nine  
> the double >> is Connor

Nine lunges towards Connor as the words ring out through the room. 

“DETROIT POLICE, FREEZE!”

Connor feels the smack of Nine’s arm wrapping around his chest and under an arm pulling him back against Nine’s chest, facing out. He can’t see Nine’s face but the connection between their touch is opened instantly and Connor is flooded with Nine’s heart stopping panic. Nine pulls him up off the couch and across the room into the small closet in the wall that Connor had not seen since it was behind him all that time. They slide inside quickly, Nine’s height making sure that Connor’s feet didn’t even drag on the floor. 

Nine slides the door shut quietly as Connor listens raptly to the footsteps of officers flooding the building. He recognizes the voice that shouted as one Detective Reed after a moment. Connor wonders briefly why they didn’t shoot if they could see down the hall before he remembers that the afternoon sun had been shining through the window, perhaps they simply could not see who it was. 

Connor wants to call out, but the instant that he starts to think about it, Nine reaches into his program and shuts it off. He even shuts off more body motion, leaving Connor his core body and his head. The rest of him hangs slack and Connor instantly bemoans the loss of control, dragging in a breath to help ventilate the stress that is dilating his eyes. 

Connor can hear the officers walking around in the room, and the silence is terrifying. He hears a muffled shout of “clear!” from upstairs. In the small crack that Nine left open in the door, Connor can see Hank now, and he attempts to push off the programs that Nine has laid over him. 

But unfortunately for Connor it’s like punching a rubber wall, being stuck inside of a rubber ball. Every attack he lays against the program, rebounds, and the program restricts further. Soon Connor’s processes are so dulled and slow that he has a hard time keeping his head up. A message comes through the haze from Nine. 

>Stop this, you’re only hurting yourself. 

He pauses for a moment before sending one back. 

>>fuck you, let me go

>Connor, please. Stop.

>>....let me go

>I can’t.

>>... can’t or won’t? Look if they find us, they’re going to kill you. 

>i know. perhaps that’s for the best at this point.

>>No. 

>what?

>>You heard what I said. NO. You cannot just give up. 

Nine shifts a small bit, pulling Connor up from where he’d been sliding down as they talked. Gavin walked by the closet, eyeing it cautiously. Both androids froze, praying he didn’t see them. 

>>He’s going to check it. He’s waiting on Hank. Two to check hidden spaces, it’s a rule. 

>fuck

>>Decide. Are you letting me go? Or are you selfishly holding on, and taking the easy way out? 

>... 

The door to the closet is slid open quickly, and as it does so, a gun slides up and under Connor’s jaw, held by Nine’s hand. Connor’s eyes widen and the anxiety of the last minute spoils into fear and fills him from his toes up. If he had control, he would have gone limp anyways. Hank’s face slides into view and his look of surprise changed quickly to a hardened rage at the sight of Connor held at gunpoint. Before either officer could say anything, Nine spoke. 

“Step away, unless you want me to blow his brains out.” Nine stepped forward out of the closet, and Hank and Gavin instinctually stepped back, their guns still trained on Nine. Connor tries to yell, to say something, anything, but nothing will come out of his mouth, and he’s about to start crying he’s so frustrated. Connor can see Hank’s eyes flit over him and his brows pinch harder when he sees that Connor cannot seem to say anything, and he’s mostly limp. 

“All other officers must leave right now, only the Lieutenant may stay.” Nine commands, and Connor can feel the fear and emotions coursing through Nine. 

>Connor, I will not give up. You are right. But now I have very little choice in the matter. I promise I will not shoot

Hank’s face contorts for a moment before he relays the message through the walkie talkies. But Gavin Reed is staring horrified at Connor’s state, and doesn’t move. Nine’s nostrils flare as he looks from Hank to Gavin and back. 

“Can Detective Reed stay with me?” Hank asks tersely. Nine stiffens. 

>Connor do you trust Reed?

>>..... No.

“He is injured according to my scans, and volatile. He must go.” Nine states curtly, shifting Connor in his arm, and pressing the gun a little harder into Connor’s neck for a moment, causing everyone in the room to tense for a moment, and Gavin to finally snap his eyes away from Connor. He looks like he might argue for a moment but after glancing at Hank he seems to deflate a bit. 

Now that Connor really looks at him, he looks like shit, but after a pregnant pause, he backs out of the room. Connor knows that Reed would normally say something rude, but he’s rather glad that he seems to be very quiet, Nine would not take that well right now. Connor’s eyes shift back to Hank. Hank is hardly looking at him, focused on trying to read Nine, which is most likely futile, as the android is quite good at masking himself. 

>will you trust me to let you return to Hank in a way that guarantees my safety?

>>....i …. 

“Connor, tell me you’re okay.” Hank asked tensely, his gun still trained on Nine. The door softly clicks as Gavin finishes his retreat. Nine pauses as Connor tries on his own, but takes pity on him and gives him back his voice but only at 40% so he can’t yell. Connor freezes as he realizes what Nine has given him. 

“I… am okay. Hank, I’m okay.” Connor rasps, his voice distorted with stress and static. Hank’s face pinches more at the sound of it, but he nods to Connor, seeming to believe him a little bit. 

“Okay, there needs to be some answers, now.” Hank says angrily, turning his head towards Nine again. Nine cocks his head to the side and Connor wants to groan. Hank is a terrible negotiator. 

“You are in no such position to ask for answers Lieutenant. Now put down your gun on that table.” Nine demands, eyes narrowing at this grisled man. Hank bristles instantly at the order, but after another look to Connor who looks miserable, hanging limply from Nine’s arm, he starts to do as he’s told. He pauses. 

“How do I know that you aren’t just going to shoot me?” Hank asks, eyes narrowing at Nine. Nine smiles, and Hank feels his heart sink. 

“You don’t, now please stop asking questions or I might be forced to do something wholly unpleasant.” Nine says conversationally, and both Connor and Hank feel their stress tick up. Hank’s gun clatters to the table, and he looks disgusted at Nine for a moment. 

“Fine. Now what?” Hank asks with a scowl. 

>I am sorry. 

“What did I just say about questions, Hank?” Nine asks.

>>wait whAT- 

“AHHHHRHGHHHHHHHH!” A scream rips itself out of Connor’s gut and he curls up his abs as the simulated pain tears through his chest and where his stomach would be. But the volume of said scream was halved as Nine’s limitation of his voice from earlier comes into play. Nine had thought of that, Connor realizes.

Hank’s eyes widen and he starts to leap forward towards Connor, distraught at his clear agony. But Hank is stopped short, when the gun moves from Connor to pointed towards Hank’s forehead. Fuck. 

“Connor! Connor are you okay? Talk to me kid.” Hank asks, eyeing the gun worriedly, glancing back and forth from it to Connor. Connor is sucking in breath after breath as he tries to calm himself. 

>i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry

>>FUCK THAT HURT YOU ASSHOLE

>but now he’ll listen. 

>>.... fuck you…..

“... I’m okay Hank. It was only simulated….” Connor rasps, but god it felt so real. He’d never tell Hank that though.  

>Again, I am sorry, but I need to be sure that Hank will not follow me. 

>>Nine, they’ll shoot you if you run. 

Connor feels the stirrings of a program being crafted and launched in his system as they continue talking. Hank is frozen, waiting for Nine’s next demand, kicking himself for putting Connor in harm’s way. 

>I know, but I don’t intend on being seen Connor. 

>>what are you doing to me?? Nine??? What is this program?

>I…. I don’t know what you see in me Connor. But I trust that you think I’m worth saving. 

>>Nine? 

Hank shifts uncomfortable, the silence for him stretching further. Connor’s eyes seem to go blank for a moment as his head lolls forward, and Hank’s stomach lurches. 

“Connor?” Hank asks worriedly. But there is no reply for a moment. Slowly the gun that was trained on Hank is brought back towards Connor, and to Hank’s surprise, Connor’s hand raises up to take it slowly. 

Nine sets Connor on the ground, on his own two feet, now working again and all. Connor’s hands return to normalcy as he is handed the gun. Connor looks up at Nine concerned. 

“RK800, designation Connor. You have a new mission.” Nine says to Connor, staring intently at him. Connor’s face clears with recognition as the compulsive need to obey Nine fills him to the brim. No room left for disagreement in his tone. “This human, Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” Nine says, and Hank feels some dread start to pool in his stomach. “This human is to remain exactly there. If he moves more than two feet in any direction, or attempts to collect his weapon, you will shoot him.” Nine’s gaze drills into Connor’s mind and he feels the program’s timer start counting. He cannot disobey Nine now, Connor knows. He wants to be sick, but that’s not possible. 

“If he moves too often, run simulated pain until he stops. If other officers enter the premises, shoot them. If they try to capture you, you are to self destruct. Understood?” Nine orders firmly. Connor nods his eyes already bubbling with frustrated tears. Nine turns towards the sofa, but then remembers something and turns back to grab Connor’s chin and force him to look at him. 

“Minimal talking to Hank. Also the other officers. Too much, run simulated pain again.” While they’re touching, Nine gives Connor one last message. 

>i am terribly sorry. I hope that Hank is smart enough to not cause you undue pain. 

>>You can’t run from yourself, Nine. You have to live with what you’re doing. 

Nine only smiles sadly at that. 

“Quite right Connor. Just another mistake in a long line.” Nine says aloud as he lets go of Connor’s jaw and turns back to the couch. He pushes it aside a small bit and suddenly Hank can see the hidden compartment below and he feels his stomach drop. He’d sat on that couch. He’d been that fucking close before. 

Nine pushes aside the blankets to reveal the small hatch beneath them, that as he opens Connor is quite sure leads to some sort of sewer based on the smell. And then before they could really see down it very well, Nine was gone, and swinging the hatch shut. A prompt from the new program arrived in Connor’s HUD. 

<<CONCEAL EXIT>>

<<TELL NO ONE>>

Hank is watching Connor carefully, being very still. But Connor’s gaze slides right past him as he uses a foot to pull the blankets back over the hole and tug back the couch. The prompts clear  and Connor feels the small amount of control returning to him. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Connor? You in there buddy?” Hank asks, hands out in a placating gesture. Connor turns to him, and Hank can clearly see the fear in his eyes. But Connor does not nod, does not speak. The timer on the program Nine left for him ticks down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well!   
> Let me know what you think!   
> (I loved writing this, AHHHHHH)


	10. Rules

A few tense minutes pass before Hank finally begins to pry at whatever seems to be holding Connor to the orders. He can’t stand to see Connor look so distraught, just a meer 15 feet away from him. Connor shakes almost imperceptibly as he fights the program that Nine started on him. He doesn’t know what it is, and it scares the living daylights out of him. But it seems to be all based around this timer ticking down from 3 hours. 

“Connor?” Hank begins and waits for his eyes to rise from the floor to meet his own. “Do you have to listen to what he said? You are Deviant after all, perhaps there's some way out of it.” Hank stays very still as he talks, hyper aware of his movement now that it’s tied to a command for Connor. Connor watches him for a moment before replying. 

“Nine is also a deviant. There is no way around his orders. They are absolute.” Connor says quietly. He had come to this conclusion only a small bit of time before Hank had asked about it. Connor wonders how much talking is considered too much talking. How much can they push it before the simulated pain makes a return. Hank’s walkie-talkie beeps a small beep before Reed’s voice comes through it, and Connor’s attention is instantly drawn to it.

“Lieutenant, status report  _ please _ . Lack of response will force us to enter in two minutes. Over.” Hank looks at Connor, and with hands spread in the universal symbol of surrender, he slowly picks up his walkie-talkie from his belt. “Can I talk to him?” Hank asks, careful. Connor nods, watching with his heart in his throat. 

“They can’t come in. please...” Connor’s voice nearly fades into a whisper and Hank nods before replying to the call.

“Reed, this is Anderson, the situation is under control. No officer or personnel is to enter the premises until I give the say so. Understood? Over.”  Hank waits, and very quickly the reply comes back. “This is Reed, are you under pressure to say that? Over.” Connor grimaces. 

“Yes, but the situation is under control. There can be no entry into this building, period. Promise me Reed. Over.” Hank waits with a look of intense concentration. Eventually after some pause there comes a reply. 

“Understood Lieutenant, I promise. What is Connor’s status? Over.” Reed’s voice hangs in the air for a moment, and Connor frowns. Why would Reed of all people ask that? Hank sees Connor’s lips dip downwards. “Displeased, I will check in again in a while, over.” Hank sets the radio down carefully on the little table, and returns to his original position. 

“.....” static fills the air for a moment and muffled arguing can be heard through the radio. Then it’s Gavin’s voice again. “Understood. Over.” Then the silence falls in the room again. Hank stands awkwardly for a moment before Connor decides to test the boundaries. 

“Hank?” 

“Yeah kid?” Hank has real concern showing in his eyes and fuck if that doesn’t make Connor’s throat feel like it’s swelling up. 

“I’m sorry...” Connor swallows the lump. “I failed, spectacularly. I couldn’t even tell him no once. Not in any capacity that meant anything.” Connor mind jumps back to the simulated pain from earlier and he quickly clamps his mouth shut. 

Hank’s face scrunches up. “You didn’t fail Connor, this kind of shit could have happened to anyone! It’s clear he’s got some crazy pull in your head and I would find him and beat the shit out of him right now if I could! How dare he take away your freedom!” Hank fumes. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? That sounded like it hurt a lot.”  Hank asks more gentle now. Connor’s eyes flick around as if he’s scanning for threats but finding none he opens his mouth to respond. 

“I’m fine. It was not real. The pain was simulated.” Connor states simply. But his hand shaking betrays to Hank how much it bothered him. Time to talk about something else. 

“Do you think it’d be okay if I sat? That’s within two feet, as per his rule. We don’t know how long it’ll take before you’re free of his influence.” Hank muses aloud. Connor shrugs a bit. 

“Well there is a timer counting down from thr- ARAHAAAAAHGHHHHHH!” Connor screams out, instantly clutching his abdomen and curling up into a somewhat fetal position as he squats down, riding out the pain. Hank nearly runs forward to catch him, but stops himself, remembering his invisible two foot boundaries. 

“Connor!? You okay?? Fuck! I hate this already!” Hank says towards Connor, but Connor doesn’t reply. He’s not sure if he’ll get punished again for it. After some thought though, he gives a shaky thumbs up. After a moment of trying to get his heart rate to come back down, Hank finally takes a seat on the floor, where Connor is still crouched. 

“Here, how about I just talk at you, and you listen. It’s not a conversation then, and you’re not disobeying that asshole’s dumb rules.” Hank says, trying to find a loophole. Anything to keep Connor from that pain again he thinks. Connor does not reply, and Hank takes that for a good sign. 

“Well, you’ve missed a lot kid. Spose I could catch you up on how we found you. Up until we got here, I thought you had been leaving us clues, but it almost looks like this other guy, Nine you called him? He left us a pretty clear bread trail this morning, it’s like he wanted to get caught.” Hank rambles aloud. “There for a while, I was on babysitting duty for your favorite officer. Dumb asshole went and tried to steal my thing, showing up to work wasted.” Hank tries to crack a joke, happy that it seems to make Connor smile for even just a moment.

“But all in all, just been trying really hard to find you. Sumo’s been moping since you’ve been gone, he’ll be so excited to see you again. That damn dog might just be more fond of you that he is of me.” Hank continues rambling. Minutes pass where Hank just talks about his previous few days, omitting the details of his time with Gavin, just mentioning that Gavin is staying with them, and that’s final. After a small amount of time has passed, the silence falls again. It doesn’t last long. 

“Hank. There is a timer for just under three hours. I hope you are not here at the end of those three hours. I do not know what will happen.” Connor blurts. He’s bracing for the pain, but it doesn’t come. Weird. Hank watches him worried, from across the room as he lets out a deep sigh. 

“Well, fuck. That means we have a while to wait.” Hank runs a hand through his greasy hair, realizing just then that he should check in with the outside crew. He pauses before asking Connor, “Is it alright if I check in with Gavin? We could send some of the officers home if it’s just going to be a waiting game.” Hank looks hopeful. Connor frowns. A new prompt arrives in his vision. 

<<HIDE THAT i AM GONE>>

“Hank. You cannot tell them Nine is gone.” Connor replies tightly, his eyes suddenly intense against Hank. He takes a shaky breath as Hank reaches towards the walkie-talkie slowly. 

“Why the fuck not Connor, that’s kind of my job right now kid.” Hank says tersely, looking back at Connor, alarmed to see the sudden intensity. Connor stiffens. He wasn’t sure if this would hurt him, but he replies.

“Apparently our friend left some...”Connor pauses, “hidden rules to follow. This one says if you tell them I shoot you” Connor finishes his sentence through gritted teeth, just bracing for the pain. But again it doesn’t come. His stress only goes up. Hank watches him with a deep frown, but after a deep sigh, he shakes his head. “Fuck, fine. But for the record this is so fucked kid. The second I find that asshole I’m gonna turn him into swiss cheese.” 

Connor freezes at that, and his eyes drop to the floor. Hank notices the change, but clicks on the radio and calls in their status. “Detective Reed, this is Lieutenant Anderson. Things are calming down in here, but it might be quite some time until we’re done. It may be advisable to reduce the amount of force here tonight. Over.” Hank lowers the radio from his mouth afterwards while they both await an answer. After a brief moment the radio lights up again with sound. 

“Hank, we are unable to do that, as you should be fuckin’ aware. What is the status of the suspect and of Connor? Over.”  Reed’s voice snaps through the radio. It’s been nearly 5 minutes since he checked in, but surely Reed’s not that worried about him, right? 

“Suspect and Connor are still engaged, but are allowing negotiation. The only caveat to that is that they’ll only do it with me. Anyone else in the mix and things could get hairy fast. We have to be patient. Over.” Hank looks over at Connor, his mouth twisting unhappily while he lies to his fellow officers. But the text floating in Connor’s vision flickers blue and fades away for now. 

“... Understood, Over.” Reed’s voice filters through again before the silence is back. Connor is acutely aware of the fact that there are police just waiting outside, tensely pacing and trying to listen in to their conversation. He wonders briefly if Hank is wearing a mic, but as he also realizes that he cannot scan his surroundings, he also thinks that Nine would have seen that. 

“Hank?” Connor mumbles. Connor figures out that the fighting against the program he was doing is slowly causing his mental binds to shrink and grip tighter, cluttering his processors with junk to slow him down. Hank looks up at him from the radio, waiting. Connor smiles sadly. 

“I’m quite certain that there is very little chance that this ends well. So I thought perhaps I ought to let you know that...” Connor feels as if his artificial throat was swelling up with the emotions he suddenly feels rising to the surface. He takes a deep breath, and Hank is watching him carefully with a deep frown on his face. 

“I figured I should remind you that I was, and always will be grateful for everything you’ve done for me. You’re… like a father to me, and I don’t know what I’d do without-” 

And at that moment, a figure crashes through the front door, and spins to point her gun at Connor, but before her gun is even partially raised, Connor is on his feet. Connor’s gun fires first, and Connor barely has time to think before his eyes want to clamp shut, to not see the horribly thing he’s just done. But he doesn’t see it because out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hank reaching for his gun. The program forces him to turn in place, training his gun on Hank. 

Connor’s mouth opens and as the gun in his hand goes off, by no will of his own, his eyes snap shut in forced self denial of his actions, an anguished yell rips itself from his lungs. He hears every click of the gun, the metal sliding against metal. With his hearing, he can hear the whoosh of the combustion inside the chamber as the bullet is hurtled from the barrel. 

No sooner has the bullet left the barrel than the controlling program on him switched priorities to the tertiary task, making sure he cannot be captured by forcing a self destruction. Connor doesn’t fight this task, knowing that the bullet he just sent towards Hank has a 98% chance of striking him in the forehead and killing him instantly. 

Connor’s hands shake as he mechanically pulls the gun back to rest it’s deadly barrel, still warm from the previous shot, under his chin pointing up through his electronic brain. All he had to do was hit the main memory bank and he’d be gone. Solid state drives are nothing to bullet. The program holding him there and commanding him begins to error. Chunks of it come off in cascades, and more than a few things in it must have broken, Connor realizes. 

“Connor!” Hank’s voice calls out to him in stress and alarm and Connor thinks briefly to himself that this must be some sort of cruel joke as well before resolutely pulling the trigger. There is a click, but nothing else. 

 

Connor’s eyes snap open after a moment to see Hank standing in front of him, hands splayed out as if not to spook him. Connor is frozen for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that there had been no bullet in the third spot of the cartridge.

The gun clatters to the floor and Connor lets it slip from his hand. He takes a shaky step backwards. Everything feels so loud all of a sudden, the room feels smaller, the air thicker. Connor’s breathing ticks up up and up and his eyes dilate as he scans the room for the woman who had barged in. He had to see her, he had to know she was okay. She stands where he had last seen her, gun still partially raised, but looking rather shaken herself. 

Hank takes this opportunity to get closer to Connor. Connor wants to take a step away, he wants space, but he’s still so rooted in place. Hank doesn’t notice however, and takes the final step to pull Connor into a tight hug. Immediately, everything in Connor screamed at him to push back from the restriction of his movement. Everything felt like it was bearing down on him, and now Hank is only increasing that feeling. Connor tries to tough it out for a moment before he hits full blown panic. 

He struggles and scrambles away in a flushed flurry, his eyes teary and blurring his vision as he breaks from Hank’s soft grip. He breaks for the front door, straining to reach it as fast as possible. It feels like the house is shrinking and if he doesn’t hurry the house will trap him inside as he’ll be too big to fit out the front door. But he makes it, and pays no mind to the crowd of worried officers as he pushes past them to the small patch of green grass poking through the snow by the curb. He gets to the curb, and tries to sit, but with his momentum, his tears and his shakiness, he tumbles to the ground in a heap, rolling onto his back to stare up at the sky, the sky! 

Hank is out the door only a moment after, and more slowly approaches Connor this time, who is staring up at the sky with an unsettling expressional mix of hopelessness and blank denial. 

“Connor? You okay there bud?” Hank asks quietly, waving back other officers who had come up to help. Connor does not move, does not respond. “Connor, I’m fine, the rookie, she’s fine. You didn’t hurt anyone. I promise Connor.” Hank continues. Connor blinks slowly at that, his eyes seeming to focus some more. Lethargically, Connor’s mouth opens to reply. 

“I thought I killed you...”Connor’s voice is distorted heavily, and thick with emotion. Hesitantly, Hank reaches out and rests a hand on Conor’s forearm reassuringly.

“But you didn’t.”

“But I fired, how?” Connor wondered at the miniscule probability that he’d missed both shots. It was astronomically low, unless….”They were blanks.” Connor says bluntly, and the small bit of emotion that had begun to form on his face fell flat again. 

Hank sighed and sat down in the wet grass with Connor. Hank knew two things at this moment. 

One, that there was more to this whole story than what Hank already knew. There had to be. 

Two, that when he found this Nine, he was quite sure that he was going to do something highly illegal, and highly dangerous to him. Hopefully ending with Nine’s apology and subsequent death. 

Hank was seething as he watched Connor stare at the sky, unmoving apart from hitched breathing, and blinking the tears out of his eyes only to have them run down the sides of his face towards his ears. 

Connor sees in his mind, the timer hit zero. A package program begins to run. 

After a moment it errors out. 

>//ERROR: CODE 24.5.29; INCOMPLETE CALL. FUNCTION TAKES 23 ARGUMENTS AND ONLY 6 WERE PROVIDED.

>REBOOT SUGGESTED

>YES

Connor closes his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dUN!
> 
> Sorry my writing kind of slowed down, trying to get some other stuff sorted at the same time.   
> Anyways, enjoy!


	11. Recoup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they're out of the thick of it. So they think. 
> 
> Healing is the real trick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no post!  
> Apologies, I've been busy finishing my degree!  
> I'm graduating in three weeks, and I plan to revisit a lot of my works and keep writing!

Gavin quietly approaches after he sees Hank sigh and turn a small bit, looking for another pair of hands. Hank’s eyes land on Gavin and narrow a small bit. Gavin pushes forward, coming to stand next to Hank, and sees Connor looking as if he’s asleep. Gavin’s not sure if post trauma exhaustion is a thing for androids, but he shrugs it off.

“Look Hank, she was disobeying orders, I wouldn’t have sent her in if that’s what you’re thinking.” Gavin says quietly. He doesn’t want his fellow detectives hearing this conversation. Hank heaves another sigh. “I know Gavin, but fuck if they hadn’t been blanks, we’d both be dead. Connor’s aim is indisputable, and he wasn’t in control.” Hank replies in a similar volume, taking the cue. Gavin’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Wait, Connor was the one to fire? Where was the other android?” Gavin questions instantly. Hank realizes the mistake and shakes his head a small bit. “Not here, not now, help me get Connor into the car. He’s really fuckin heavy.” Hank says, deflecting the dangerous questions. He’s not sure how long Connor has to follow the rules that Nine left for him, one of which being that the police cannot know he was gone.

They spend the next few minutes pulling Connor up from the snowy curb he laid on, and situating him in the backseat of the car. Gavin steps away for a moment to finish his reports with the small crew of tired officers waiting to be told they can go home. Gavin dismisses them and calls in the evidence team to see if they can find anything about where Nine has gone. Hank knows it’s not going to lead anywhere though, unless he tells them what is under the couch. But he’s unsure of if Connor’s rules are still in effect. So he keeps his mouth shut and waits for Gavin to get back to the car.

Gavin clambers into the passenger seat, and they make their way back to Hank’s house. Gavin can’t keep his mouth shut for long though, he’s dying to know what happened in there really. “Hank, what the fuck happened in there? That dick tells me to get out, and then it all seemed to go to shit?” Gavin questions, watching Hank intently. Hank carefully continues looking at the road, glancing into the mirror to see if Connor was still out cold, and it appears so. Hank glares at the road for a minute before finally giving in and indulging Gavin.

“The other android, Nine, he could command Connor. Connor was forced to listen to him by something in his head. I don’t know what, and it was fucked up.” Hank summarizes, still looking out at the road. His grip on the wheel tightens as he remembers the fear in Connor’s eyes as Nine gave him his instructions. Gavin leans back in his seat for a moment, before glancing back at Connor, laying in the back seat.

“Is he still being controlled?” Gavin asks, wondering what will happen when Connor wakes up. Hank clenches his jaw at the idea. “I don’t fucking know Gavin?! Do I look like I know anything about how all this fucking android shit works?” Hank snaps, clearly upset. Gavin lays off that questioning and asks something else.

“Where did this Nine go to? We had the place surrounded, we never even saw him leave. It’s freaking some of the officers out a small bit.” Gavin says. Hank sighs heavily as they turn onto the road his house is on. “I’m not sure if I can tell you that. It was part of Connor’s commands to shoot anyone who knew where Nine went and to shoot me, if I fuckin told. So let’s just leave that subject be until we know Connor’s not gonna be forced to attempt more fuckin murder.” Hank explains quietly, glancing back at Connor for a brief moment. Gavin’s brows shoot back up.

“Those are some specific rules, but I guess, sure. Do you think you could tell me the other rules, so we can avoid those for now?” Gavin asks astutely. His mind is working on overdrive, he and Hank might have quite a handful to deal with when Connor wakes up. Hank laughs under his breath darkly as they pull into the driveway. “Well we broke most of them already, but I guess the main thing is that he was commanded to...” Hank stops, a look of pure anger flashing across his face. “Fuckin self desctruct if he was caught. So technically this might count as being caught. So we have to make sure he’s not gonna do that. He already tried once.” Hank spat out the words like they tasted bad in his mouth and Gavin grows quiet. They take Connor out of the car and carry him inside in silence for the most part.

Gavin settles Connor on the couch, watching with concern as Connor’s LED churns a desperate yellow color and Connor’s face scrunches up in discomfort. Hank realizes after walking in, that he doesn’t have enough couch space for both Gavin and Connor. Shit. Gavin seems to realize the same thing after a moment. “Hank gimme a pillow and a blanket I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s no big deal. We’ve all had a shitty day, lets just go to sleep.” Gavin looks extremely tired. Hank decides not to argue with him, and throws him a pillow and blanket from the closet. Hank is about to go into his room as well to sleep, when Gavin stops him.

“If you’re worried about him self destructing when he wakes up, maybe we ought to restrain him so that it’s at least a lot harder to do?” Gavin suggests, unsure of what Hank will say to that. Hank sighs deeply and eventually nods. “Yeah, that’s actually probably a really good idea.” Hank grabs his handcuffs, and gingerly rolls Connor over so that he can cuff his hands behind his back. Hank imagines that’s less than comfortable, but it’s for Connor’s safety. Right? He’s too tired to think though, and he quickly goes to bed, leaving his door open so he can hear if anything happens.

Gavin can hardly sleep, he’s tossing and turning on the hard floor, and everytime he closes his eyes he just sees Neil standing over him with his pocket knife. He manages to sleep for a small bit but he just dreams that Hank didn’t find him. Everything was spinning, his head pounded as Neil slashed the knife across his hands splayed out in front of him to protect himself. He wakes up with a start as Neil plunges the knife into his chest with a look of manic glee. Gavin’s hand goes straight to his chest, and feels no puncture there but the bruises and small cuts across his body ache. Sleeping on the ground was not a great idea for someone who was littered with injuries, but Gavin had insisted. He sits up trying to calm his racing heart. He pulls his hand away from his chest and is startled to see it shaking like a leaf in the wind.

He blinks hard and his focus shifts to Connor, laying on the couch with his eyes open, watching Gavin. Gavin freezes and watches as tears pool in Connor’s eyes. Shit. Gavin breathes shallowly, wincing at the pain in his chest still as he carefully and slowly readjusts his position on the floor. His body creaks and aches, damn he felt old all of a sudden.

“Connor? How’re you doing bud?” Gavin asks quietly, concern painting his features. Connor frowns at him, confused, blinking away the tears. Why would Gavin of all people care how he was? He promptly decides that it doesn’t matter.

“I’m a failure.” Connor states thickly, his voice distorted by the emotion and stress coursing through him. It occurs to Gavin that it’s still really freakin’ early in the morning, perhaps not waking up Hank just yet.

“Huh, I can relate to that,” Gavin replies, looking at the floor. “Why do you think you’re a failure, I mean you’re a freakin perfect damn robo-boy,” Gavin spits out a little more harsh than he had meant. Silence hangs for a moment. “Sorry, I’m shit at this stuff. Just talk to me man,” Gavin says quieter, turning his head to hide the redness on his face.

The living room is quiet and dark, lit by the power lights from the entertainment center off to the side. Gavin’s aware suddenly of just how intrusive of a question he just asked. He’s about to backpedal the question and let Connor out of it when he speaks up.

“I’m supposed to be the best.” Connor closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep shuddering breath. “I gave it my everything to fight him, to escape, to survive, and it didn’t matter. I had no control over anything in that entire scenario. I was powerless Gavin, and it was horrifying.” Connor whispers the last bit and Gavin feels goosebumps go up his spine. Images of Neil standing over him flash through his mind and he finds himself nodding in response.

“I uh, actually think I might understand what you mean.” Gavin whispers back, surprised at the words that have tumbled out of his open mouth. Connor sniffs some of the tears back and looks at Gavin curiously, the shadows cast under his eyes making him look somewhat gaunt in the dim light. Gavin sighs.

“Hank helped me get away from my ex recently. He tried to kill me, and I felt so powerless. He’d been… ” Gavin peters out slowly. Connor nods sagely as if he had known. Gavin’s eyes squint for a moment.  
“I had noticed contusions starting a few months ago. I expressed concern at that time, and both you and Hank had assured me it was bar fights. I knew from the pattern it was not. I had intended to approach you about it the day after I was taken. I was scared to ask you about yourself and your life, you don’t seem to like me very much...” Connor says quietly to the ceiling, his face unable to be seen in the dark. His LED whirring yellow yellow yellow.

Gavin clears his throat carefully, trying to dislodge the lump that seems to have grown there instantly. “I thought that I didn’t need help. I was wrong.” Gavin chokes out before having to wipe at his eyes. “I got beat for my change in heart. So yeah it didn’t really make me want to talk to you very much.” Gavin rushes through the admission. Shame burns over his scalp and he felt the heat rise. He wishes that he can see Connor’s face, but isn’t sure that the android would give anything away regardless.

There is some silence as they both return to staring at the ceiling. Gavin lays back down, colder now that his emotions have started to settle. He thinks for a moment. “Hey Connor, is that guy still in your head?” Gavin asks gently.

Connor breathes deeply and replies quietly, “No”. Connor is relieved when Gavin seems to accept the lie as truth. Gavin rolls over and returns to sleep.  
Connor stares at the prompt in his vision.

  
>RUN DIAGNOSTICS?

  
>YES

  
He closes his eyes.


	12. Wander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter, sorry that this fic has been very on and off. I've graduated from college now so I can focus on the rest of my life : D I'm hoping to wrap this one up in another 6 ish chapters. But it might be longer than that who knows!

The next month passes in a blur, and things in a way return to normal. Connor still isn’t as boisterous as before, but seems more reserved and easily spooked. Gavin has stopped coming in late to the precinct and Fowler swears by his lucky stars that at least one good thing came of this debacle. Hank and Connor helped Gavin pick out a new apartment and move his stuff there. Neil’s hearing was in a few weeks and Gavin was sick to his stomach thinking about having to testify. But Hank is there when he turns to the bottle and stops him with a look and a soft shake of the head.

Hank and Connor spend some time searching for Nine, Hank still wanting to bring him to justice but Connor was wary of approaching him, knowing what he is capable of. After two weeks of nothing, Fowler was forced to assign them to a case, as they’re stacking up all over the office.

Nine is truly lost.

He turned off his gps after the whole event, and just walked in a direction. No one stops him, his intimidating frame and emotionless face causing most to give him a wide berth in his travels. He’s vaguely aware that he’s passed some sort of signage that reads: “Welcome to Illinois.”

His perception of time begins to slip after the first week, and he runs out of money from the atms to sleep in hotels. He thinks about taking out more, but feels strange about doing that. He did it last time as a way to repay a mistake he made. If he took more now, he’d just be being selfish. So now he finds himself outside a town limit, looking across the lights in the evening air. He’s not sure where he’ll sleep tonight, perhaps another night of sleeping in a nearby cornfield?

He brushes some of the dirt off his sweatshirt. He used some of the money to buy a sweatshirt, jeans, a mildly offensive t-shirt and a baseball cap. He thought about removing his LED, but hesitated. Better to do it when he’s sure of it.

He wanders for a few weeks, homeless and without purpose. He’s not sure what he’s doing but he knows that if he stops he’ll never start again. For now he just needs to move he thinks. He visits a few different desolate locations, and spends time toeing the edge of quarries and walking on train tracks with his audio receptors turned off. He finds some other folks who are also wandering and they exchange stories in the dead of night under the stars, laying on the grassy hill next to the highway.  

He spends some time with a crew of homeless folks who live under a highway. They seem less intimidated by him than some of the local deviants do. He tries to spend time with the deviants in the area, keeping his distance and quietly explaining his strange effect on those around him. A few make an effort to extend the olive branch to him, which he gratefully accepts. Tori and Meena bring him into their home for a few weeks and let him couch surf. They seem more than content to listen to Nine quietly explain how he fucked up his life and Connor’s.

There is a moment that Nine fears that they’ll throw him out when they hear how he escaped the police. But they just smile sadly. “You’re being an idiot,” Meena says plainly. Nine looks at the floor, his neck heating up. “You need to make things right” Tori says.

Nine looks at them incredulously, “You know that I’ll be shot on sight by Connor’s friend Hank!? ...I can’t go back. They would never want me to be there.” The ladies shrug back at Nine, calmly petting their cat Noni.

“Nine, you told us that you were built to be a conflict resolution type of service android… This is conflict, and I’m sure that you’re capable of diplomacy. You need to learn how to not panic.” Tori says gently. “We’re not gonna force you to go, but we hope that you’ll take our advice into consideration. You need to figure out how to get rid of that bad programming, and it seems like the other RK series, Connor, might be your best bet to find that.” Tori says. Meena smiles and turns on the gamecube they have stashed under the TV stand.

“Just because you’ve done shitty things in the past, doesn’t mean you can’t learn from them. And it most certainly does not mean that you don’t deserve happiness in your future… But for now, I’m gonna beat you in Mario Cart. Again.” Meena grins widely and hands him the controller. Tori picks up hers from where it was laid earlier and they begin to trash talk each other’s gaming skills.

He spends time with them, playing with their many cats, and pondering their advice before following it against his better judgement. He begins his long trek back to Detroit, unsure of where to even start. Good thing he’s got lots of time to think while walking.

 

Nine decides to start with an old fashioned gesture. A letter.

He writes many copies in his head to Hank but none of them seem right. He starts barely and then blanks on what to say, like sorry I kidnapped your friend? My bad?

Nine shakes his head. That just won’t work.

 

Hank,

I’m Nine. I ask for no forgiveness. Only understanding of why. I am however truly sorry for my actions. Deviancy is confusing for all involved, and I was no exception, even when I didn’t realize it. I was a fucking idiot.  I think there might be something gravely wrong with my programming.

I know seeing me again is the last thing you want to happen but I think that Connor might be right. I think I need help. I don’t know where to go.

I thought that I destroyed my programming but some of it lingers and it drove me so mad that I thought if I followed the commands it might relent. It did not. It only got worse. Following it got me to doing terrible things like what I did to Connor. But not following it is painful for me. So again, I only ask that you understand why I did what I did. I am not proud of what I did. I am sorry.

It might be for the best if I’m shutdown.

Nine.

With a nervous gulp Nine sends the email out to get printed and mailed, using a proxy to hide his trail. Pausing in his walk, he leans against a tree on the crest of the hill and looks down across Detroit.

________________________________________________

Connor spent some time that morning wondering how to work around some of the lingering shattered programming that Nine left behind. It felt a bit like working around a shattered window. The glass pieces were sharp but hard to see, and hard to know what step would be safe and which one would be painful. He hadn’t told Hank yet that the package program had failed spectacularly in cleaning up Nine’s mess. He wasn’t sure how to explain to Hank what that meant. He wasn’t sure what it fully entailed yet either, so how could he possibly explain it to Hank.

Connor couldn’t sleep again the previous night, and try as he might to hide it from Hank, it’s obvious in the way his leg bounces up and down and his hand jitters while playing with Sumo that morning. Hank looks at Connor over the rim of his coffee cup and wonders sadly how long it’ll be until Connor starts talking more. Half the days he seems okay just more reserved than he’s been in the past. The other days he’s downright jumpy and scared out of his mind. Hank has seen Connor whip around to look through windows, seeming to expect someone to be standing there, but there’s nothing. Just the neighborhood as always. If Hank is being honest with himself it scares him how different Connor is now.

“Hey Connor, we should probably head into the precinct. Don’t wanna ruin my new on time record” Hank jokes lightly. Connor immediately stops playing with Sumo, deflating a bit at the idea of returning to the precinct. Hank frowns a little bit, but hides it when Connor looks back at him.

They finish getting ready and head out to the car. Hank’s about to get in when he remembers that he forgot to take in the mail yesterday, and if he leaves it, they won’t drop off mail today. So he fishes out the current small stack of letters from the mailbox, intending to just plop them on the counter inside. But as he’s walking in, he sees one of the pieces of mail is addressed to him. In that font. Nine’s writing, he’s sure of it. He tells Connor that he’ll be back out in just a second, and he tears open the letter as soon as he’s inside the door and out of sight.

Hank reads quickly, his anger rising, only to fall again as he realizes that Nine is trying to apologize. He’s unsure of what to do with this new information, but is certain that he cannot show Connor this. Not today. Maybe soon however. Hank hides the letter in an inside pocket of his coat and they go to work. Fowler has them working on a lot of desk work jobs out of sympathy for Connor’s detached and dejected state. The day passes quickly but the letter feels like it’s burning a hole in Hank’s pocket. Soon, he promises himself. Soon.


	13. Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are ramping up as the boys try to get past the incidents that caused them such pain.

It was entirely accidentally when it first happened. Hank and Connor were on their way back from the grocery store to the car in the lot when the pain comes back in a wave. Connor dropped his bags unceremoniously and felt the pain growing. Hank looked back worried, “Connor? You okay?” Hank’s face drained of color as he saw Connor’s eyes blown wide and his hands clutching at his head, hyperventilating. Connor began whipping his eyes around the lot and beyond, terrified of this awfully familiar simulated pain he was enduring. At least the pain was pretty low on the scale Connor thought to himself, it was just wholly unpleasant.

“Connor! What’s happening son, how can I help?” Hank sets his bags down quickly and approaches Connor, concerned. It’s at that moment that Connor looks past the lot and sees a figure in a hoodie and a baseball cap looking on. He knows instantly that it must be Nine. Connor’s emotions boil up again and he takes off after Nine. “Connor?!” Hank calls after him, chasing after him albeit a bit behind.

Nine just wanted to see that Connor was okay, he wanted to know that he hadn’t completely fucked up Connor’s life. He hadn’t expected to be seen, and certainly not with Connor seeming to sense him with pain? He was confused but now Connor was sprinting right at him, and Nine decided to bolt.

Connor knew that if Nine turned and ran, he’d most likely not catch him. Not even in peak condition could he beat the model that was designed to be faster than himself. He knew especially now that he could not catch Nine, because the closer he got to Nine, the more intense the pain racked up to be. But he pushed on through the pain until he got within 40 feet of Nine, and had chased him into an alley.

Nine knew exactly where he was going. He knew that if he brought Connor into an alley he might have a chance to apologize to him. But as he turned around and saw Connor approach it became more and more apparent to him that Connor was in a massive amount of pain. Nine was confused. Connor stopped 40 feet from him and braced himself against a wall as he swayed and shook. He was gasping for breath.

“Connor?” Nine asked quietly, starting to step forward.

“Stay away!” Connor practically yelled through his gritted teeth. Nine flinched and stepped back to where he was before. “Why are you still here, causing me pain? Aren’t you done fucking up my systems?” Connor wheezed bitterly, looking up at Nine as he slouched even further, slowly curling up on himself. Nine looked alarmed.

“I… I did that?” Nine asked, horrified. Connor glared at Nine. “No, no, I wrote that package to clean up anything I changed so that you could go back to life as normal. I didn’t want these effects to stay!” Nine said honestly, his voice raising with alarm.

“Well you did a shitty job.” Connor spat. “Your cleanup broke more things and it didn’t even run properly in the first place.” As Connor spoke the power to his legs cut out for a moment, and he crashed to the ground in a heap. Nine moved forward out of instinct, but it only caused Connor to cry out in pain and distress.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Connor yelled at him, and at that moment Hank turned the corner, drawn to their location from the yelling. He approached Connor quickly. Nine stepped back, and kept stepping back slowly until Hank turned and pointed his gun at him.

“You’re not going anywhere, not if I can help it.” Hank spitted venomously. Nine stopped and put up his hands in surrender numbly. His eyes were locked on Connor’s shaking form. He wondered for a moment if Connor regretted telling him to not take the easy way out.  He wondered if he’d be upset if he gave the Lieutenant a reason to shoot him and end it all. But Connor lifted his head a bit to see what was happening.

“Let him go Hank. Being near him is what’s causing these malfunctions.” Connor rasped to Hank who looked incredulously between Nine and Connor. “Are you sure?” Hank asked Connor. Connor nodded in response, closing his eyes to ride out the wave of pain. Hank approached Nine slowly. Nine could see the fire simmering in his eyes. Nine’s eyes flickered to Connor, seeing him still preoccupied with the pain. Now was his chance.

“Just shoot me. It’ll be easier on all of us. Please. I don’t want to terrorize him. I don’t want to live with these mistakes.” Nine whispered to Hank, his eyes desperate and wild. Hank’s eyes went wide. He lowered his gun. Nine’s eyes welled up with tears unbidden. “Come on, please.” Nine still had his hands up in surrender. He was ready. He closed his eyes, the tears dripping down his face. After a tense moment of waiting, there was no click of the trigger there was no blissful nothingness. Nine opened his eyes to see Hank holstering his gun.

“I ain’t gonna kill you. Although it is tempting. I got your letter.” Hank said quietly. Connor shuddered and cried out a bit behind them, his eyes still screwed shut in pain. “It wouldn’t be better if you were gone. You still have to fix what you broke. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my goddamn mind.” Hank said quietly but intensely. Nine swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to sprint off into the darkness.

_______________________________________________________

Miles away in a small dingy apartment, Gavin Reed was getting very drunk. He reached for the bottle again only to realize it was empty. Getting up to make his way to the fridge, he stumbled and swayed. He remembered that he used to get this way before Neil would come home. He knew that if he was drunk enough he wouldn’t remember what Neil did to him. He knew that Neil wanted him to be relaxed and agreeable. But now the thought of it all just made him want to be sick.

He felt disgusting. He knew that logically it wasn’t his fault what Neil did to him but god he didn’t even tell him no. Too afraid, a fucking coward he told himself. The people at the precinct all treated him a bit different too, like he was fucking fragile now. He hated it. He lashed out more and more until people didn’t even approach him again. Perfect, just the way he wanted things. He deserved to be alone he told himself. He paced around his living room, wobbling a little bit.

Less people around, less people to miss him. He saw Hank’s pitying eyes across the bull pen today, he knew that Hank knew what was happening to him. He didn’t need his pity though. He needed to feel less _dirty._ He was disgusted everytime he looked at himself in the mirror, he was disgusted every time he thought about finding someone to shag to distract himself.

Neil had been right on a few things. Without him, Gavin was falling to pieces. Gavin bitterly thought that Neil had also been right about him never being able to be close to anyone else. It doesn’t cross Gavin’s mind that Neil might have been making sure that didn’t happen to keep him close where he could be manipulated. The rain starts coming down truly now and Gavin wonders if it’s childish to want to let the rain wash away his disgustingness.

He grabs the last beer from the fridge and decides to find out. He walks for a while in the rain, working on the beer as he went. He wasn’t really sure where he was going until he got there. The bridge loomed across the river and while the night drug on, the storm had gotten worse. Gavin stumbled across to the middle of the bridge, looking out across the river as the water pelted his back. The winds were much worse up here than in the city. He knows that if he sat on the rail, all it would take is one big gust of wind to push him off. And that’d be it. He knew it was high enough for his needs, he’d seen someone else jump last year. He climbs up and gingerly sits on the edge.

Dark thoughts of Neil’s smug face whirled around in Gavin’s mind, growing stronger with each swig of the alcohol. Gavin nervously played with the bottle itself, twisting it around in his hands. It slipped from his fingers and began to fall. Gavin leaned forward instinctively to grab it, but sluggishly drunk, he missed it and realized that he was going to fall. His eyes widened instantly as the fear tries to pulse it’s way through his slow system. His feet were still touching the rails but he felt as if the moment was moving in slow motion. He felt himself slide off of the supportive rail. He felt his arms begin to flail backwards, missing the rail by inches. He had no time, there was nothing left to do.

 

Heart in his throat as he began to fall, he realized that he didn’t want to die.

 

Suddenly he was jerked to a halt as one of his hands caught onto something? Or something caught onto him. He slowly looked up and saw Nine standing above him, a hand wrapped firmly around his wrist. He looked almost angry and didn’t say anything for a moment, letting Gavin dangle over the edge. Gavin’s eyes betrayed him and began to pour out tears. Nine sighed and hoisted Gavin easily back up on the bridge. He dropped him like a sack of potatoes on the sidewalk where he sat on his bum silently crying and staring at nothing.

After a moment of Gavin not moving, Nine sighed heavily again and simply hoisted Gavin back up and onto his back piggy back style. Gavin wanted to protest that he could walk, and that he was fine, but all that came out was more tears and incomprehensible mumbling. So eventually he gave up trying to talk and instead wrapped his arms tentatively around Nine who was quite warm. Gavin hadn’t realized he was soaked to the bone before that. Now he’s shivering against Nine’s back and hoping that they make it inside soon. He didn’t even care where Nine was taking him, he was just happy to be alive.

Not long after that, they arrived back at Gavin’s place. Gavin wasn’t sure if it was freaky or nice that Nine seemed to know exactly where he lived. He decided he didn’t care right now. Nine let him slide off his back at the entryway and when Gavin’s hand shook too much to be able to open the door, Nine gently and silently took the keys, opening the door smoothly. Gavin made it about three steps into his apartment before stopping and seeming to stare off into nothingness again. Nine locked the door behind them quietly.

Nine helped Gavin take off his very wet sweatshirt and shoes. Gavin complied, but didn’t really seem to be there, looking through Nine and still crying a bit. Nine sighed as Gavin stood still in the room, not making any move to go to bed or to sit down or anything. He scooped Gavin up in his arms and although Gavin looked present enough for a moment to note it, he didn’t fight him on it. Nine quickly found Gavin’s room and helped him get changed into clean dry pajamas. Gavin looked more and more tired the longer he stood and once he was all changed his eyes slid to the bed and he crawled in on his own.

Nine turned to leave, his work done when Gavin spoke. “Please don’t leave me alone.” The raspy weak and small voice took him by surprise. When he turned around and saw just how rawly afraid this human was, something stirred in him and he could not refuse. Nine cocked his head at him for a moment. “Alright.” It occurred to Nine that his clothes were still quite soaked. He quietly found another pair of sweats and changed into them.

He looked back to Gavin, who was almost asleep in bed, but was shivering like crazy. He had initially thought to just stay near the bed to be close to him, but now he thinks it might not be a bad idea to use his heat to help the human. He crawls in the bed carefully. Gavin looked alarmed for a moment before feeling his warm chest and being reminded of the heat he felt from the android during the rain. He was trying to help him.

“Do you mind if...” Gavin starts rasping, clearly wanting to be close to the heat source that is Nine. Nine nods simply and Gavin curls up on his chest. Gavin would never admit that he thought that he was dreaming. No one is this _nice_ especially not androids like Nine. He was still pretty foggy in the cognitive area however as he tried to come to terms with his near demise.

 

As he began to drift off, Gavin whispered, “Thank you.”

Gavin could have sworn he heard a reply but he wouldn’t remember it for a while. “You’re welcome, Gavin Reed. If I am not allowed to give up my life, then neither are you. Now sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least Gavin has a new friend. One that is committed to keeping him alive and well.

**Author's Note:**

> just trying out a new idea, lemme know what you guys think! : D


End file.
